


Fulfilling Dares

by arysthaeniru



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysthaeniru/pseuds/arysthaeniru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yukimura's life is generally perfect and boring and great. Really. But when he gets dared to get Sanada Chihiro, the formidable captain of the girls tennis team, on a date, his life becomes marginally more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, dear Yukimura, my most favourite meglomaniac~

Yukimura Seiichi frowned as the bottle spun slowly and pointed towards him, almost mockingly. He had managed to avoid the spinning bottle for a whole ten rounds, bragging that it was his Child of God status, but now it had finally landed on him. And...it was Renji’s dare. 

As much as he loved his best friend, he also knew that his best friend had a cruel streak (as did he, but that wasn’t the point). If Yukimura picked truth, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Renji already knew everything about him, so it would hardly be a problem. The real problem was that he’d be admitting it to the whole tennis team, a show of weakness. So the only choice was dare...and knowing Renji, it would be cruel and unusual.

Yukimura smiled deceptively. “Renji.” he acknowledged. “Dare, if you please.” 

Renji just smiled back at him, his eyes remaining lightly shut. “I dare you to go on a date with Sanada Chihiro.” 

There was a collective intake of breath from all in the room and slight mutters from the rest of the tennis team. Yukimura didn’t let the expression on his face change. Sanada Chihiro, the formidable captain of the girls tennis team...yes, an unusual punishment indeed. “Any time-limit?” he asked, calmly. “She won’t just go on a date with me if I casually ask her.” 

“Of course she won’t just accept, she’s better than that.” said Renji, calmly. Yukimura was reminded that the two were close acquaintances. “And no time limit. That would be unfair.” 

Yukimura tilted his head sideways. “I’ll do it within four months then, Renji.” he said, calmly. “Now then...” he spun the bottle and it landed on Niou. Niou, of course, chose a dare and Yukimura gave him something was probably cruel, but his mind wasn’t in it. 

Sanada...he knew very little about her. She was in his class, she was the president of the morality team, one of the only girls on the kendo team and the captain of the girls tennis team. She was one of the reasons that Rikkaidai was making nationals in both genders, something their headmaster loved to gush about. However, Yukimura had never sat down and had a solid conversation with her, beyond sorting out practise times and when they’d get the buses to take them to tournaments. 

The two of them walked different social circles. Yukimura was very popular: known by others as kind, sweet and mysterious, but always willing to talk and be friendly. His looks probably cemented this image. Sanada was quiet, forbidding, stern and from what he’d heard, didn’t talk to her teammates much, or to anybody really. Her only solid friends seemed to be Renji and Yagyuu Hiroka, in Class 3-A, who was her vice-captain. 

Still, she was definitely just as attractive as Yukimura, if not more. She didn’t have the conventional delicate beauty, looking rather more androgynous than most people would have preferred, Yukimura knew. But she had almost regal features, with her ramrod straight nose and chiseled jaw. She also had some of the largest boobs in the school, (if the gossip was to be believed, double Ds) was one of the tallest girls in the school and was ridiculously athletic. He remembered a girl in his fanclub saying that she had abs on her abs, something that had made him laugh for a bit. 

She was talented at everything she did, though, from what Yukimura heard. Her singing was amazing (if a tad loud). She was third place in the school rankings, only beaten by Yagyuu and Renji. Her kendo prowess was famous and her tennis even moreso. They called her the Empress, quite a title, even for the slightly corny monikers that tennis players were given. 

Getting her on a date would be difficult. But Yukimura wasn’t the Child of God for nothing.

xxxxxxxx

His first opportunity came the next day, on the first rainy day of September. It was a day where the boys were scheduled with the indoor courts and the girls with the outside, and the dripping wet Sanada walked into the gym. “Yukimura-kun.” she greeted curtly. “Could you spare a few courts for the girls? It’s pouring.” 

Yukimura looked up from where he’d been helping some first-years with grips, since he was finally unofficial captain of the high school tennis team, now that the senpai-tachi were busy studying for university exams. 

She was soaking wet; the water dripped from her short black hair and off the rim of her Jack Purcell hat onto the shirt that clung to her every curve. It also ran in rivulets down her toned legs and thighs, that the short Rikkai skort accentuated. It was difficult to not stare at the sight she made. 

Still, she didn’t make herself look conventionally attractive or even put herself out there, which was why Yukimura could understand why he’d never heard of people dating her. She was just too forbidding to even ask. Where the rest of the girls team were trying to flirt with his regulars, she crossed her muscled arms over her chest and scowled down at him, looking like a drowned cat. 

Goodness, it must have been pouring it out there. At the crack of thunder, Yukimura winced. “Niou, Yagyuu, clear off Court A. Pre-regs, clear off Courts C and D.” He turned to Sanada. “That enough?”

Sanada nodded. “Thank you,” she said, her stern face softening a little. 

“You might want to dry up before you start playing again, or else you’ll catch a cold.” warned Yukimura, as he went back to the first years. 

Sanada tossed him a look of surprise, but after instructing her slightly less wet-regulars to start playing, she cleared off somewhere. She returned wearing a thick jersey and warm-up pants. Shame. She’d looked very nice covered in water. 

He sidled up to her, as he set the first years into some painful drills and she silently supervised the girls regulars in their matches. She tossed him a curious look again as he joined her, his jacket perched on his shoulders, crossing his arms as he looked out upon their teams playing. 

“Say Sanada-chan, I’ve been curious. Would you play a match against me soon?” he asked. Their only link beyond classwork was tennis, and Yukimura was curious about the play-style of the ‘Empress’. 

She looked surprised. “A match?” she asked.

“Was I unclear?” asked Yukimura, politely. “A match. Against you. I’ve been meaning to for some time, but since it was tournament season, it was difficult.”

Sanada nodded in understanding. She had to understand, the Girls’ Nationals were at the same time as the Boys’ and prepping to win them was a lot of work. “I would be happy to.” she said, not particularly looking like she meant it. “But I cannot today. I have a kendo competition to attend immediately after practise.”

“Hmm, today’s bad for me as well.” said Yukimura, with a nod. “I’m going shopping with Renji.” he said, noncommittally. “How does Wednesday work for you?” 

Sanada nodded, her hair dripping a little onto Yukimura’s shoulders. She was taller than him by at least four inches, how irritating. “Wednesday works well.” 

“Great~!” said Yukimura, beaming at her. Sanada gave him a slightly confused look, before shouting at her doubles one pair for being ‘Tarundoru’ and missing the shot that had gone through the centre of their combination. 

Yukimura went to go criticize Akaya and Niou on their forms, ignoring the smug smirk directed in his direction from Renji. He’d said something to Sanada, what a _shock_. 

xxxxxxxx

Sanada frowned as she placed down her pen on her homework for the third time that evening. She just had to clear her mind of what was troubling her, or she’d never finish her implicit differential questions. 

What had happened today besides the usual....? Right, the match on Wednesday. With Yukimura. 

She looked down a little, flushing a little. She was _such_ a girl. She didn’t have time to crush on people. She barely had time to finish homework as it was. What with kendo practise, tennis practise, looking after her younger nephew and practising for singing, she was a very busy individual, who most certainly did not have time to waste mooning over a boy, like some sort of idiot.

But, he was very attractive ...and nice too. No one had really cared before that she might get a cold from being out in the rain, except her family. And not even they, if her brother and his apparent lack of care for Sasuke’s health was anything to go by. 

Sanada, despite herself, was excited to play him. Who hadn’t heard of the talented Yukimura Seiichi, the ‘child of god’? His tennis was supposed to freeze you in place with fear and make it so that you couldn’t move until the end of the match. Well, Sanada was going to be the first one to beat it. She wouldn’t lose to him because of something as stupid as fear. 

If you feared your opponent, you weren’t worthy to stand upon the courts. 

That was Sanada’s law, and she wasn’t about to break it now. Not for some boy who hadn’t paid her the slightest bit of interest before. Duty first.

Feeling a little more at ease, she pressed the pen to the page and started to rewrite the graph, hoping that she wouldn’t be interrupted by Sasuke until after she’d finished this problem. 

xxxxxxxx

It was Wednesday, after a grueling practise for the others, that Yukimura, feeling mildly warmed-up, stayed back onto the courts. Sanada didn’t even look like she’d warmed up, still in her warm-up sweats and jersey. 

“Would you like a warm-up rally, Sanada-chan?” asked Yukimura, as he shed his training sweats but kept the ever-present jacket perched on his shoulders.

“Hn.” she said, nodding. She pulled a tennis ball from the pocket of her skort and reached up to serve in underhand. They fell into a light rally pace, that slowly increased in pace, until both of them were sprinting across the courts to return each others shots. 

Yukimura let the ball fly past him, when he started to pant. “I don’t think either of us are good at warm-ups.” he said, with a light laugh. 

Sanada’s shoulders quirked a little as she walked up to the net. “Rough or smooth?” she asked, and Yukimura could see a light sheen of sweat along her face. Good. She was all warmed-up. 

“Smooth.” said Yukimura, as she started the racket spinning. It landed rough and Sanada tossed her hair back, with something that might have been a smirk. “Good luck.” said Yukimura, as he headed back to the baseline and waited for her serve. 

It shot past him at an almost lightning pace and Yukimura’s eyes widened as he impacted past him. Oh, this was going to be interesting. “Love-15.” he called, with a feral grin on his face as he crouched lower and paid a little more attention to her. 

He didn’t miss the next serve, and dissipated most of it’s speed with a neat flick of his wrist. She dived after it, and very quickly, they had a fast, hard rhythm going. Yukimura had never enjoyed rallying so much, especially not with the sheer passion that seemed to exude from the previously unemotional Sanada.

Her face contorted as she played, clearly showing her frustration, pleasure and the power that pulsed through the match. Yukimura had never played so hard to keep every point, not even against Tezuka. It was exhilarating and amazing and something completely different. He met her eyes across the net, and he could see his own emotions reflected back at him. She’d never played this hard before either. 

They played fast and hard and he had initial point losses from adjusting to her moves, but the game was easily in his favour. At the four-five game score, Yukimura was about to ask her for a break, when their umpire called it for them. 

Yukimura stopped suddenly. They hadn’t had an umpire when they’d started.

...But now he thought about it, he hadn’t been calling out the score in the past three games. Someone else had been. 

Oh. 

He looked around, to see most of the tennis club gathered around, looking utterly shocked or just plain-smug, in Renji’s case. 

He didn’t react, just flopping down in his seat, holding his hand out for the towel, that Akaya placed into his hand. “Buchou...” he murmured. “Are you struggling?”

“Of course I am.” said Yukimura, with a smirk. “She’s not the first Nationally ranked girls player for nothing.” 

“But...”

“But I’m not going to lose, if that’s what you mean.” interrupted Yukimura, as he took a long deep gulp of water, wiping his top lip as he finished. 

Akaya looked unconvinced. “She’s a monster, buchou. I didn’t think that girls could play like that.”

“You learn something new everyday.” said Yukimura, as he picked up his racket. “Since you fell asleep through most of today’s lessons, you have to learn something new tennis-wise then.” 

Akaya flushed and Yukimura walked back to the baseline, with a smirk affixed on his face. “Ready to lose, Sanada-chan?” he asked, lightly.

“It is you who will be crushed.” she said, coolly, as she served again, with speed and passion. Yukimura followed the ball, losing himself in the joy of the game. He could feel _Muga no Kyouchi_ pleading to be released, but Yukimura was reluctant to let himself reach it. The loss of control and stamina wasn’t worth the extra speed that he’d gain. Besides, he wanted to remember this game and the feeling of freedom entirely.

He smashed the ball to and fro, barely hearing the crowd and the score. Only the final score of six-four, after a deuce that seemed to last forever, registered in Yukimura’s mind as he walked up to the net. They’d played for two hours, a ridiculous amount of time for one set. But Yukimura felt like he could play for another three sets or another five. He met Sanada’s eyes as they shook hands across the net. He knew that she felt the same way. He’d found another opponent, akin to the likes of Tezuka and Shiraishi. 

“Congratulations.” she said, as she pulled her hand back and adjusted her hat. 

“Play me again soon?” he called over his shoulder, with a smile, as he headed back to the bench.

“Not scared? I don’t lose to the same person twice!” she called back. 

“You will this time!” said Yukimura confidently, as he brushed the towel over his hair. He was sweating more than he’d done since recovering from Guillain Barre. Probably wouldn’t have the strength to play another three sets then. 

Maybe two more though. For next time, they’d play a proper high school match. The thought made him smile as he packed up his stuff and headed back to the locker room, pushing past the rest of the tennis club members, ignoring their questions entirely, stopping only to exchange a wry look with Renji. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

The news was everywhere the next morning, and Yukimura sighed as he took a seat in his classroom. The pre-regulars loved gossip rather too much for his liking. And Sanada’s team probably had a large influence in the gossip too. He would make his team all run more laps today, as punishment. 

He hadn’t needed the mobbing from his fangirls as he’d arrived into the main school after finishing practise. Not in the slightest. 

Sanada skidded into the classroom late, followed closely by Renji, and Yukimura knew that the Morality and School Council meeting must have overran. Luckily for them, sensei was later to arrive, giving Sanada the time to neatly retie her hair in her chair at the front of the class and for Renji to look coolly disinterested as he took his seat next to Yukimura. 

The benefit of having a best friend with practically the same surname as you. “Overran again?” asked Yukimura, sympathetically. 

“Mmm. It was against my predictions, but everybody, even Sanada and Yagyuu seemed out of it, so the vote took longer than expected.” said Yanagi, with a frown. “For yesterday’s homework, did you get seventy-two x over sixty-seven y on question five?”

Yukimura frowned as he rummaged into his schoolbag, pulling out his maths book. “I got a neater answer than that. Did you factor at the beginning?” he asked, as he showed Yanagi his workings out. 

Yanagi smirked. “You have started the habit of tennis-ball zeroes again, Seiichi.” 

Yukimura started and looked down at the sheet. Oh yes, he’d done it while half-distracted by his younger sister and her history questions. And it took a lot of concentration to not draw them like that. 

“Tennis on the brain still, Seiichi?” asked Renji, teasingly as he compared his own answers to Yukimura’s. 

“Yes.” said Yukimura, not feeling ashamed in the slightest. “I haven’t played a game like that in ages. I can still feel the adrenaline.” he said, with a wide grin. 

“Here Seiichi. You put the square root of one-hundred and forty-four as thirteen and not twelve. Which is why you got a neat answer.” said Renji, poking at the book with his shiny mechanical pencil that Renji had used and owned for five years, just replacing the lead when it ran out. 

Yukimura groaned. “Anything else?”

“Your graph for question seventeen is wrong. Considering there are doodles of new tennis moves in the margin, I’m not surprised.” Renji’s smirk was infuriatingly large, like the cat that had got the cream, killed the dog and mouse and stolen a perfectly good laptop for a chair. 

Stupid cat. Why had his little sister gotten a pet for her birthday? Right, because Yukimura had gotten a tree. At least trees didn’t steal laptops and reduce your essay to jargon. He didn’t know why she’d been fussing. 

Yukimura sighed, as he pulled his mind back to task abruptly. “So sue me. It’s all your fault anyway, with that dare. You _knew_ that I’d be interested once tennis got involved.” When in doubt, blame Renji. It had worked perfectly before, it would work fine now. 

“Of course.” said Renji, cryptically, leaving Yukimura unable to respond as sensei finally arrived and started to teach things that Yukimura knew would not stay in his brain. He’d have to get Niou to explain it in Art. 

But at least, if Yukimura was out of it, so was the untouchable Sanada. When called upon to answer a question by sensei, she stammered to the surprise of everyone and got it wrong. Not by much, by just a silly mistake at the ending...but still, it was a change to her usual flawless visage. 

Hmm. Maybe Yukimura would have to change that. That really wouldn’t help the rumours. And the rumours would scare off Sanada before he could even try to get close to her and date her. 

As the bell to second period rung, Yukimura got up and walked to Sanada-chan, dropping only a small scrap of paper in her lap as he brushed past, as if he was running to catch up with the captain of the hockey team. It read _Saturday, at the tennis courts by the hospital at ten am_. It would be earlier, but Yukimura wasn’t getting up that early on a weekend, tennis or not. 

He didn’t want an audience to their next match. 

xxxxxxxx

It was ten am already. Past it, actually. Ten-fifteen am. Yukimura pulled a face. Where was she? He _really_ wasn’t used to getting stood up on dates. Even if this wasn’t really a date yet. Since she hadn’t actually been told that it was. 

....Actually, if he’d told her it was a date, Yukimura would have expected to be stood up. But he’d only written rematch on the paper scrap. So where was she?

Yukimura sighed. He didn’t chase after girls! They came after him, damnit!

...but in this case, the girl wasn’t interested in him. She hadn’t asked him out. He’d asked her out. And that made all the distinction, he supposed. Then gave in and reached for his phone. “Renji.” he said, the moment that the dial tone blinked out. “Where does Sanada live?”

After a quick sarcastic remark from Renji about his father (stupid.fucking.nickname!) not being able to tell him, he managed to get the address from his unusually recalcitrant best friend. It wasn’t far, less than ten minutes away, and Yukimura shouldered his tennis bag up over his shoulder carelessly as he arrived at the house, with a wide-eyed look.

It was huge and very much one of those traditional houses, all the way from the Meiji Era. Nothing like Yukimura’s modern western-styled home. And a popular kendo dojo, too, if the sign was anything to go by. Well then. The things you learnt. 

Yukimura fixed his most charming smile on his face as he rung the doorbell. A pretty woman answered the door, with a slight resemblance to Sanada and a kind expression on her face. “Sanada-san. My name is Yukimura Seiichi. I was planning to meet Sanada-chan at the tennis courts today. Is she at home?” he asked, politely. 

“Yes she is. Though, she didn’t inform me of having any plans for today...” Sanada’s mother said, trailing off. “Chihiro! You have a guest!” she yelled, up the stairs. “Why don’t you come inside, Yukimura-kun?”

“Thank you, Sanada-san.” he said with a smile, removing his shoes outside respectfully and entering the traditional home. 

He took a seat in the _ima_ politely and smiled a little frigidly, when Sanada skidded into the room, still wearing a traditional hakama, clearly having been taken from kendo practise. “Did you forget about our match, Sanada-chan?” he asked, feeling a little hurt. It was one thing if she’d intentionally ignored him, but she looked genuinely shocked to see him there. 

“No! I didn’t! It’s just....that...” She trailed off and flushed. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be right with you, Yukimura-kun. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” She bowed sharply, at the perfect ninety degree angle, before briskly leaving the room again, leaving Yukimura feeling a little confused, as he walked back out to the corridor.

Yukimura prepared himself for a long wait, but five minutes were clearly five minutes in Sanada-chan’s time, if not faster. She walked down in a much more decent length skort than the Rikkai uniform’s and a black shirt, tying her hair back into a neat ponytail that fitted through her hat. She then nodded again, looking awkward as she tied her laces and they left the house in silence.

“So, if you didn’t forget...” asked Yukimura, unable to leave the point there. He was hard to forget, he knew.

“....” Sanada took in a deep breath and didn’t meet Yukimura’s gaze. “Other people have asked me to go places and they usually don’t arrive and leave me waiting. It’s just a joke to many people. So I don’t reply to any sorts of notes anymore.” she said, looking embarrassed. 

“Oh.” said Yukimura, his face forming a perfect frown. “That’s...not nice of them. I apologize for assuming the worst of you, Sanada-chan.” He hadn’t been aware of that happening. It was unnecessarily cruel. 

“No...don’t be. I would have assumed the same, in your place.” she said, quietly. 

They reached the tennis courts quickly and quickly grabbed a spare court. The courts were pretty empty actually. No players that Yukimura recognised, thank god. He didn’t have time for the banter that inevitably came from encounters like that. “Three sets this time?” asked Yukimura, as he unpacked his racket and tested the strings. 

“That sounds acceptable.” said Sanada, as she tightened her grip tape. “Try to keep up, Yukimura-kun.”

He swore, she got a different personality once she picked up that racket. The quiet and reserved girl that walked him here wouldn’t have dreamt of saying something like that. Yukimura was sort of glad. It made it so much easier to connect with her when she had some confidence. “Confident for someone who lost last time.” he said, casually.

“I don’t lose to the same opponent twice. And if it’s stamina, then I’ll outlast you.” she said, as she hopped the net. “Rough or smooth?’

“Rough.” said Yukimura. Again, the luck of the draw failed him. “Seems luck’s with you today, Sanada-chan. Luck doesn’t beat sheer skill though.” he said, with a light wink. He...was flirting in tennis. He’d been planning to flirt with her afterwards...but she would be more receptive when they were playing, he knew. Another reason to play at street courts and not at school. If people saw him breaking his own rule about tennis being for tennis’ sake alone....

“You might be surprised what luck can do.” said Sanada, with a smirk, as she served. Yukimura sliced the ball back and they started their vicious game again. He felt the adrenaline run through his veins again and he pushed himself to the limits, returning every ball. She seemed determined to not lose a single point, which wasn’t quite an adult game, but Yukimura wasn’t playing that either. They were playing to prove themselves to the other. 

After almost three hours and three sets, Yukimura was panting on the bench. He’d only just won it. Six-four, five-seven, and ultimately, seven-five. She’d put up the most tremendous struggle in the second set, but in the end, she just hadn’t been able to keep it up. Luckily for him, he’d been saving some strength. 

She however, looked almost furious. “I’ve _never_ lost to the same person twice...” she whispered, probably to herself. Yukimura only just restrained himself from telling her that there was a first time for everything. He wanted her to like him, not think he was an arrogant ass. 

“Well then, you’ll just have to play me until you do.” said Yukimura, as he caught a breath and attempted to make his voice steady. “Right?” he asked with a light soft smile.

She looked taken aback, before her face softened into a smile under the shade from the brim of her cap. “Yes.” she said, her face filled with determination. Yukimura thought it was the most beautiful expression on her face he’d seen yet. 

“Right. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Want to grab some lunch?”

She stood up, looking a little more confident on her feet than Yukimura felt currently. “Right. I know a good cafe nearby.” 

Yukimura smiled and heaved himself up. “Well then, lead the way, Sanada-chan.”

xxxxxxxx

It soon became a weekly routine. Every Saturday, they would play a game, from ten to one, then go for lunch, either at one of the surrounding cafes, or surprisingly, Sanada would bring them some bentos, which tasted delicious. He remembered with a start that she took Home Economics like Bunta. 

As they sat and ate though, they managed to learn a lot more about each other. Yukimura learnt about Sanada’s deep devotion to her grandfather, her annoying older brother whom she hated, despite his service in the military and his child and her nephew, called Sasuke. He also learnt that her parents didn’t encourage her kendo, but she did it anyway because of her grandfather’s trust in her. He discovered her love for calligraphy and the tea ceremony, and that she had gotten her cap from her older brother, one of the only things he’d done for her. He uncovered the Sanada Family Rock in her schoolbag (which had led to a lot of blushing) and he discovered her love of meat. 

Of course, the exchange was both ways. Sanada had found his love for gardening and art, especially his obsession with French stuff. She’d discovered his love for the forests around Japan and he’d talked briefly about his struggle with Guillain-Barre during middle school. He’d spoke about his little sister and his mostly absent parents around the house and he spoke about his passion for directing plays and for playing any sort of sport, since it made him feel so alive. She found out that he loved his hair long because it was great to freak people out by pretending he was a girl then getting angry when they assumed he was one, and that he’d gotten his first headband from Roger Federer after a junior tournament in Paris and now constantly wore it as a tribute when he played tennis. 

And somehow, Yukimura found himself seeking her or even, to his pleasant surprise, her seeking him. At lunchtimes, one way or the other, she was on the rooftop garden with him, or on the tennis courts or in the _washitsu_. And it was a comfortable friendship, not requiring much other than requests to study at each other homes, homework exchanges and exchanging tennis tactics and stories about their troublesome members. 

They discussed all sorts of things, like politics (something she was more informed on than he), or the latest pop singer (she held nothing but disdain for fads), tennis (something they both avidly followed and gushed about) and school (her impressions of teachers cowering in fear when Niou even moved were most amusing). It was strange, but over two months...he’d grown almost closer to her than he had to Renji, which was so strange on so many levels. He’d known Renji since middle school. But Renji had always been a little withdrawn, a little hesitant to give all of himself away. 

And soon...things became awkward. 

xxxxxxxx

It started in their PE class, when they started on a gymnastic unit. Everyone was stretching out to the music, as instructed by the teachers...and Yukimura had made the mistake of looking in Sanada’s direction when a popular song that she’d said that she’d hated, came onto the radio, just to see her reaction to it. At the point, she’d been stretching, and Yukimura had had to look away quickly for fear of actually blushing.

Because she was very, very flexible. The kind of flexibility that most girls dreamed of. In fact, the only stretch she was having trouble was the back stretch in the straddle splits, and that was because of her voluminous chest. 

And Yukimura was rather ashamed to say, that he was a typical teenaged boy and his mind had jumped to the worst conclusion immediately. That she would be interesting to have in bed and now his mind was definitely going to bad places that had a sweaty Sanada groaning under his fingers–

He slapped himself discreetly as he flopped over into his own side-splits. Luckily, the only one looking his direction was Renji, who just smirked infuriatingly. In answer, Yukimura stuck his middle finger up at him. He blamed Renji. He always blamed Renji. _Especially_ when it came to anything regarding Sanada Chihiro. 

And of course, thanks to that experience, Yukimura inadvertently discovered how attractive she looked when she was more open about herself and how her smile made him feel tingly inside. How he genuinely enjoyed the interesting conversations they had with each other and how she made him laugh, was something so novel. How he’d never felt a connection with someone this deeply - both physically and mentally.

And it scared him, that after just two months of casual acquaintance, that Yukimura’s awkward teenage mornings of stained sheets started with Sanada’s rippling torso and sweat-soaked thighs on the tennis court, instead of Li Na’s high features or Maria Sharapova’s blonde, foreign beauty. 

He hadn’t meant to get attached. It had just supposed to be a simple date and then tennis was supposed to be his life again. Instead...Sanada was now on his mind far too often to be healthy. He wasn’t going to able to get the tennis scholarship that he’d been promised unless he had As in all of his exams at the ends of three years at high school. That had been the deal and Yukimura didn’t intend to break it for her. 

Yukimura sighed as he wiped his brow of the sweat and glared at the offending plants. Then sighed and pinched their stems to help them grow better. “I’m going utterly crazy, aren’t I?” he asked them.

“You’re talking to your plants again, nii-chan.” said his little sister, as she sat down next to him, spreading her skirt over her skinned knees. 

“Hey, hey. What happened here?” asked Yukimura, pulling off his mud-covered gloves and rubbed a finger across his sister’s knees.

“My partner pushed me over when I wanted him to help me stack chairs.” she said, with a pout. “I told the teacher and she gave me a Hatsune Miku bandage, but it fell off.” she said, smiling angelically. “But why were you talking to them again? I thought you said that you would stop in high school?”

“My awesomely, brave girl.” said Yukimura, ruffling her hair, with a grin, “And it’s just I have a problem that I can’t fix easily so I was trying to talk it out. They were convenient observers.” He used to name his plants in middle school. All of them had had separate personalities to him. 

“You can talk to me, can’t you, nii-chan?” she asked, as she tucked herself into his side. “I know what you’re all stressed about. It’s your girlfriend, isn’t it?”

Yukimura blinked at his little sister. “She’s not my girlfriend.” he said, in a little bit of a daze. Yet, anyway.

“She’s been coming over every other day or you’re at her house every other day. She’s your girlfriend.” said his sister, decisively. “So you just have to tell her and then you can make it official.”

Yukimura laughed. “If only it were that simple.”

“But she likes you back!” said his sister, with a large pout on her face. “So why is it more difficult? You tell her you like her, she accepts then you date. Easy.” 

Yukimura ruffled his sister’s hair again. The benefits of being eight years old and only knowing what the things on TV said about romance. “We both have other responsibilities, that we can’t neglect for each other.” 

His sister frowned. ‘’S stupid.”

“It’s life, imouto-chan. Now, don’t you have to write out your multiplication tables?” asked Yukimura, sternly. His sister pouted. 

“You’re still stupid. Just tell her you like her, idiot nii-chan.” she said, as she got up again. 

Yukimura watched her go, with an annoyed look on his face. 

xxxxxxxxx

Sanada watched Yukimura out of the corner of her eye in maths. He and Renji were passing notes, and doing a good job at not being noticed. Sanada snorted a little. She could understand why Yukimura was passing notes, they both only tolerated maths, but Renji loved it. Something must have happened, for Renji to not be paying attention in Maths.

...and she really needed to keep her eyes on the board, because he’d started in on variations and she’d just missed the first one. Sanada started scribbling down notes quickly and forced herself to focus for the rest of the lecture. But once they got to class-work time, Sanada let herself relax a little. She could do this at home when Tezuka came over.

He usually came over once a month when their grandparents played Shogi matches, Since her grandfather had experienced a heart-attack while playing shogi last year, the grandchildren were assigned to help an eye on the game, to make sure it wasn’t too stressful for them. And of course, her nii-sama was absent for the vast majority of days (and even when he was there, he was still a slacker), so it was up to her and Tezuka to do it. 

Usually, nothing much happened, so they sat in the dojo, in seiza, finishing their homework in silence. Her brother liked to tease her about him and recently, she was sure her grandfather was trying to set her up with Tezuka as well, but Tezuka was a good friend and good at tennis as well, which was a bonus. 

Sanada’s eyes were only for Yukimura. 

Things had just escalated after that first tennis match. They’d played game after game, after game and Sanada had never felt more comfortable playing with someone. And then they’d started talking and Sanada had never found someone so fascinating to be around. They didn’t always agree on everything, but that was what made their conversations and debates so fascinating. Besides, there was plenty that they did agree on and that was what drove their conversations usually.

Not to mention...he was the most attractive person that Sanada had laid eyes upon. And he showed a lot of interest in her. She wasn’t blind, she could feel his eyes upon her in classrooms where he wasn’t paying attention or sometimes when they were running a joint practise (which was becoming more frequent). And she’d be lying if she wasn’t sneaking her own gazes.

The fact was, she found him incredibly attractive. Nobody that nice and that...well...beautiful, had ever paid her attention for this long. And Sanada had always been uninterested in romance, just because she had better pursuits to dedicate herself to and she’d been resigned to being signed away in an omiai to someone she’d only really tolerate. Now...she wasn’t sure whether she could stand that anymore. 

It was something so unusual to her that Sanada could barely comprehend it. For so long, her future had been determined. Go to university for history or literature, graduate with first honours, get a prestigious job until she got married when she quit and became a housewife. The end. 

But now, she didn’t want it to be that way anymore. She wanted kendo, she wanted choices...and she wanted to be with Yukimura. However unlikely that was. 

Sanada sighed and turned back to her textbook again. Wishing wasn’t going to get anything. Yukimura had his own mind and she had to wait for him to make the first move. If she asked him and he refused, she’d be the laughing stock of the school. If he asked her and she refused, nothing would happen. 

Not...that she’d refuse if he propositioned her. Sanada blushed a little as she went back to derivatives. 

xxxxxxxxxx

As the class announcements at lunch finished, Yukimura turned back to Sanada. The announcements had actually been a good segue into what he wanted to say. “Sanada-chan, the winter break is coming up in a couple of weeks and I had a couple of tickets to go see the Tokyo Tennis Tournament. Would you like to come with me?”

They weren’t great tickets, like ones to the finals or something, but they were decent. 

Sanada nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. “I’d like that.” she said, as she opened up her bento. Then she hesitated. “Wait, what day is it? It’s not after the twenty-first, is it?”

Yukimura shook his head, feeling very relieved. “No, on the nineteenth. Fairly early on in the break. Any reason?”

Sanada relaxed a little. “Yes actually. I’m competing in the women’s kendo nationals, so I couldn’t miss that, even for tennis.” she said, apologetically. “I’m representing my grandfather’s dojo, so I need to go, since I’m the only good student that fits in the youth age range.”

“Nationals?” asked Yukimura interestedly. It was amazing that she was nationally ranked in both kendo and tennis, two practise-intensive sports _and_ kept her school grades high.

“Yes, that’s correct.” said Sanada with a shy smile. “My grandfather’s hoping that I’ll actually beat Matsumoto this year and make it to the international competitions. I lost to her last year, when it was my first year in the Youth section.” she said, looking away.

“In finals right?’ asked Yukimura, with a grin.

Sanada shook her head. “Semis, actually. But I know that I could have defeated the other two who were in the other semis match. Matsumoto’s reigning champion of Japan.” She popped a piece of yakitori in her mouth and chewed, still looking faintly pink, but a lot more confident about her abilities. 

“Where’s it happening?” asked Yukimura. “I’ve never seen a proper kendo match.” And seeing Sanada in action would be something. 

Sanada looked very surprised and almost dropped her chopsticks, catching them before they hit the floor, her eyes a lot wider than before. “Usually, it’s boring for other people...it’s not a sport that’s conducive to watching it...not like fencing....”

Yukimura shrugged. “I’d never get bored watching you play.” he said, both as an honest compliment and as something to make her blush. 

And blush she did, a bright red, that matched the school colours of red and gold. “It’s at Nippon Budokan.” she said, softly. “In Tokyo. The competition starts on the twenty-first and goes until the twenty-fifth. It’s a long commute though, so I’ll be staying in a hotel for the duration of that week.” 

Yukimura nodded.”‘Then I’ll come and watch you at finals. On the twenty-fifth. I’ll come cheer you on to watch you beat Matsumoto!”

Sanada shook her head. “It’s not about beating Matsumoto. It’s about beating the hurdle inside of me that prevents me from performing to my best capabilities. It’s the fight against myself, kendo, rather than the fight against someone else. Which means that it is a constant battle.” she explained, her voice filled with passion. “But...I’d appreciate it if you came. Not many people come to see women’s kendo.” 

He couldn’t help but be struck by how pretty she was when she was passionate about something. “Of course I’ll be there.” he casually said, “It’s what friends are for, right?”

Sanada nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly, before popping a piece of takoyaki in her mouth, chewing with a smile on her face.

xxxxxxxxx

The sun wasn’t up yet when Yukimura tapped on Sanada’s house door, shivering, even after wearing five layers, one huge puffy coat and a huge hat with bobbles. He was sure that he looked more like a ball of fluff than an actual human being, but hopefully, Sanada-san wouldn’t turn him away because she didn’t recognise him.

Luckily, Sanada greeted the door. Yukimura gaped. She was just wearing a jacket and the Rikkai scarf. And she wasn’t even wearing tights to go with her skort. “Cold, Yukimura-kun?” she asked, looking confused.

“No, I’m just wearing this for fun.” said Yukimura between gritted teeth. 

Sanada blinked then smirked a little as she noted his sarcasm. “Coffee?” she asked, as she pulled out a flask. “I thought, since you were kind enough to buy tickets, I could deal with food.” 

Yukimura grinned. “I could kiss you right now. _Thank you_.” He gratefully accepted the cup and drank deeply. The warmth spread from his mouth through his blood, all the way down to his toes. It wasn’t a logical progression, not according to what they’d learnt in Biology, but Yukimura didn’t care.

Sanada flushed again and they started walking to the train station in silence. It wasn’t quite comfortable though and Yukimura realized that she’d taken that comment seriously. Well, it was the truth. And also the perfect opportunity to say something more. “You know,” said Yukimura, casually, as he unbuttoned his first coat, “If you want this to be a date, it could be.”

Sanada turned around to look at him, her gaze filled with a myriad of emotions. “Would you want it to be?” she asked.

Yukimura nodded once, his heart beating unusually fast. How derisively he’d thought of those romantic movies and romantic heroes, once upon a time. Now, he felt a lot more sympathy for them. Mustering up the courage to do anything was so tough. He’d rather go BASE jumping than deal with this. 

“Then...it’s a date.” she said, looking a little wonderous. 

Yukimura smiled, a lot more confidently, and reached to grab her hand, with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied with hot coffee. She hesitantly laced her fingers through his gloved ones and they unconsciously fell in step and walked closer together, Yukimura seeking the body heat from her.

As they reached the train station and waited for their train to Tokyo and the Ariake Forest Arena, Sanada looked at him in the eyes. “I must ask that you not inform any of my family or even mention it anywhere near my family. I....let’s just say things would be difficult for me at home.” she said, with a scowl. 

Yukimura nodded. “Of course not.” he said, feeling a little concerned. Her parents didn’t let her date? That would be...difficult to manage. Especially since Yukimura _definitely_ wanted to date her indefinitely. 

With a nod and a smile, Sanada turned to him. “Do you know who’s playing today?” she asked, as they boarded the train and clutched onto handrails, since it was pretty crowded, despite the early morning. 

“Federer and Murray, I believe.” said Yukimura, with a grin. “And Nishikori, for sure, but those two are the main foreign players coming today. I think they’re centre court, and I have seats for there. But they’re near the back, I’m afraid.” 

Sanada just rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be watching Murray and Federer play live. Do you really think that seat placement matters?”

He shrugged, with a playful smile gracing his lips. “Well, it _would_ be nice to have front-row seats, yes?”

Sanada just pulled at her hat. “Front-row, back-row, what difference does it make now, thanks to the widescreen televisions they have? We’ll be able to see them play perfectly.”

“How practical of you.”

“I’ve always been good at practicality.” said Sanada primly. Yukimura cracked a grin and let go of the rail, to slot his hand in with hers and squeezed tightly. She squeezed back, and he could feel the barely coiled excitement there. 

It felt like an eternity before they arrived at their station, but it had only been twenty minutes. The sun had rose by this point and was sending thin rays through the sky. It was partially cloudy and slightly chilly. The perfect day for tennis. “You reckon it’ll warm up later during the day?” asked Yukimura, as he pulled off his puffy coat altogether and tying it around his waist, regrettably having to let go of her hand. 

“Maybe.” she said, as she scanned the seating map that Yukimura had printed before they actually entered the Arena. “But I imagine not. If it hasn’t been doing so by Kanagawa...” 

“Tokyo’s usually warmer than Kanagawa though, thanks to urban heat,” argued Yukimura, as he tilted his head to see the map and accidentally bumped into her arm. He apologized and she looked a little bemused. “Seats VS-13 and VS-14.” he said as he finally got a good look. Her height was not fair. 

“Found them.” said Sanada, triumphantly, her face breaking into a grin. “They’re close to the entry point, so not much walking.” 

Yukimura laughed and poked her in the side. “Never thought you’d be advocating for less exercise, Sanada-chan.”

She rolled her eyes and strode forward, not even bothering to articulate a response. They found their seats quickly and waited for the match in quiet silence. Yukimura texted Renji a picture of the Arena with a smiley face and Sanada read the small pamphlet they’d got about match-lineup, aloud. 

“You have a beautiful voice when you’re so focused.” complimented Yukimura. “I noticed it when I played you as well.” Sanada blushed and looked somewhat hesitant as she thanked him.

He was about to say something else, but at that moment, the big screens that had been passively showing a variety of ads, exploded with noise and Yukimura leaned forward in excitement. “They’re starting!” he exclaimed. 

Sanada smiled warmly at him as she too leant forward a little and balanced on the fortunate pole in front of them. If their hands overlapped, it was a coincidence, of course. 

The players came onto the courts, to a loud round of applause and Yukimura smiled warmly upon seeing two of the best players of their generation emerge. From there, it was all a haze of leaning on the edge of his seat and cheering with the crowd and critiquing their tennis forms with Sanada. He’d never felt so exhilarated to just be a spectator.

They both came out of the stadium as the sky darkened, feeling a little empty and a little bit more tired. “I could have stayed there forever...” said Yukimura with a weak laugh.

Sanada didn’t say anything, but he could feel her agreement. They’d agreed so much, sitting there and feeling the exhilaration of seeing the players play, that it felt like they’d never disagree. That was blatantly false and a stupid emotion...but it was somewhat exhilarating too. “One day...” murmured Yukimura, as they boarded the much more empty train back to Kanagawa. “I’ll play on that court as a professional.” 

Sanada’s eyes flickered to him. “You want to be a tennis pro?”

Yukimura nodded. “I already have offers to go train abroad or to compete in junior tournaments with companies. But my parents want me to graduate from high school first.” It was just sensible, even if he was a little irritated by the restriction. One day, he’d stop being a tennis player because he was too old, and he’d need _some_ sort of qualification then. 

Sanada smiled. “That’s admirable. Tezuka-kun’s just whizzing straight off at the end of this year to Germany without thinking about his future.” They sounded like they knew each other. Yukimura frowned, that was natural since the tennis circuit were a close group of individuals, but the thought still made him a little cross. 

Yukimura nodded. “But isn’t he planning to take Law while in Germany?”

Sanada smirked. “He just said that to please his father. His focus will be tennis, you know it.” 

They exited the train as Yukimura responded. “Of course it will. But Tezuka is good at prioritizing. They say he’s Seigaku’s top student as well as best sports player.”

Sanada shook her head, as they started to walk out of the train station. “No, he’s only in the top ten, and low in the top ten as well. People like to exaggerate about him. He finds it funny.” 

“I didn’t think he had a sense of humour.” joked Yukimura and Sanada laughed. 

“Some people say that I don’t have a sense of humour.” she said, with a shrug. “Tezuka-kun’s the same. He just hides it because he thinks it makes the teachers scared of him and that’s useful in classes.”

Yukimura ignored the part about Tezuka and just squeezed her hand. “I think you’re funny.” he said, with a warm smile. She was, just not in an outwardly expressive way. She was more funny in her actions than her words....but yes. He found her amusing. 

Sanada just nodded, her face going a little red as they got close to her house. Yukimura stopped quite a bit before it appeared. If her parents wouldn’t approve, he didn’t want to get her in trouble for what he was about to do. 

“I had a lovely date with you, Sanada-chan.” said Yukimura, upon seeing her quizzical expression at his sudden halt. 

“H-hai. Me too.” she said, licking her lips nervously. 

Yukimura gripped her arms and reached up to kiss her softly. It was somewhat awkward, considering that she wasn’t expecting it and that she wasn’t exactly experienced at kissing, but they slowly fell into something that was comfortable for both of them. They broke apart and Sanada looked a mixture between mortified and curious.

“I’ll see you at your tournament, Sanada-chan.” said Yukimura, with a smirk. “If I don’t see you before you play, consider it a good-luck kiss.” 

Sanada nodded, her eyes still a little wide, before smiling. “Thank you, Yukimura-kun. I had a wonderful time.” 

“Seiichi.” said Yukimura, as he turned to walked.

“Then it’s Chihiro!” she called out after him.

He didn’t turn around, but smirked instead. This was probably the first time a non-family member would be able to call her that. That kiss and that opportunity was worth any trouble that came his way. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yukimura waited until the next day to call Renji, from where he perched on his windowsill, his Rikkai scarf curled around his arms and toes. The ring-tone went to three beeps, before Renji picked up. 

“Seiichi.” said his friend’s warm voice. There was a slight chatter to his tone.

“Renji.” he greeted in return. “How’s Sapporo now? Is it snowing now?”

“In the mountains, where we are, yes. Not the rest of the state, though.” explained Renji, sniffling a little. “It figures that father would pick the one ryokan where it’s utterly freezing.”

“That sucks, Renji.” said Yukimura, pulling a face. He knew that Renji hated the cold, like he did. “Any interesting data?”

“My sister and her boyfriend are utterly disgusting together. They’re like limpets. I bet I couldn’t pry them apart with a crowbar.” said Renji’s amused tone. “But nothing else new, not really. Unless I state the obvious about the weather.” 

Yukimura laughed, muffling his laughter in his scarf, so the phone line wouldn’t sound too crowded. Soon, he heard Renji joining in with him, his low tones blending in a harmony with Yukimura’s. “Yet you still find the time to be humourous.” said Yukimura, with a grin. “I appreciate that, Renji.”

“So, what did you call for? I assume it wasn’t just a social call, since you text me at least three times a day.” said Renji, as Yukimura heard the sound of a door opening, and a sharp breeze whipping past the phone. 

“Isn’t it cold outside?” asked Yukimura.

“My sister started kissing her boyfriend again.” explained Renji. “Besides, you wanted to say something beyond pleasantries, I assume.”

“I went on a proper date with Chihiro.” said Yukimura with a smile. “So I completed the dare.”

“So now what?” His voice was blandly curious. 

“What else? I’ll keep playing tennis and going on with life and hopefully she’ll date me again. Because I enjoyed myself more than I have with other girls.” said Yukimura, with a smile, as he leaned his head against the window pane, his hair falling into his eyes. 

“...good.” said Renji and his voice was unreadable. 

“What was your purpose with daring me that, anyway?” asked Yukimura, curiously, as he traced small pictures in the fogged up glass, where his breath was impacting the cold glass. “You knew I’d fall for her from the beginning. You were counting on it, actually. So why?”

“...you’re sharp.” said Renji, with a chuckle.

“Only been your friend since middle school. I’ve picked up some things over four years of constant contact.” teased Yukimura, lightly. “So spill.”

“She needed a choice in life.” said Renji, finally. “For so long, she’d just been doing her duty in school and been unhappy with it. And she was getting teased too, for being herself. It wasn’t a happy life for her, even if she had some goals which helped her keep going. I wanted her to have a choice. And you were unhappy too. You were withdrawing from me, I could see it sometimes. You needed a purpose beyond tennis.”

Yukimura tapped his fingers across his face. If he compared this to the murder-mysteries that Renji loved, the motive wasn’t quite complete. “There’s more to that than you’re telling me.”

“Not really.” said Renji, non-committedly. “You needed each other, but you needed a little push too.”

“Why not just date her yourself?” asked Yukimura. “If you thought she was too lonely and needed a choice? You two were closer, anyway.” 

“Sec-ret.” said Renji, his voice as smug as the cat who’d gotten the cream. 

“ _Renji_.” warned Yukimura. 

“You can’t make me run laps here, Seiichi.” laughed Renji. 

“I can when you get back!” threatened Yukimura, but his voice was filled with laughter. 

“...well, I couldn’t date her. because I’m already dating somebody else.” said Renji finally. 

Yukimura blinked for a bit, before he darted up and pouted at his phone. Renji would know exactly what he was doing, and just to make sure that Renji would, he sent him a snapchat of his pouting face. “Aren’t I your friend? Why don’t you tell me these things? Who?”

Renji stammered a little and Yukimura knew that his best friend would have gotten his snapchat just then. “Well...I thought you’d laugh at me.” he said, finally. 

Yukimura frowned. “Do you think so little of me, Renji?” That sort of hurt, actually. 

“No...” said Renji, hesitantly. ”But...it’s a societal taboo.”

Yukimura was silent. What could he say to that? What did it matter to him that it was a taboo? He didn’t care about rules. They bent to him, not the other way around. Finally, Renji spoke up. “It’s....my old doubles partner. Inui Sadaharu.” he said, finally. “We got together earlier this year.” 

Yukimura sighed and pressed a hand to his bridge of his nose. “Renji...did you really think I’d care about that? Honestly! I’m happy for you. Is he a good boyfriend?”

Renji’s voice was hesitant. “There were comments in the changing room....”

“Which I definitely didn’t take part in.” said Yukimura, firmly. He knew that for a fact. He had absolutely nothing against gay people. His continued acquaintance with Atobe was a good example of that. “But I admit, that I should have stepped in and said something against it. And I didn’t. And for that, I’m truly sorry, old friend. Because you’re still my best friend. Why should who you like matter, huh? Does it change you? Not at all. So it’s not my or anyone else’s business.” 

There was a silence from the other end of the line, filled only by the howling of the wind. Yukimura thought he’d said something wrong. Then he heard a soft sniffle, that wasn’t from the cold, come from the other line.

“Thanks Seiichi.” said Renji’s voice, a little unsteadily. 

“Any time.” he said, fervently. “Now, any other things you’ve been keeping from me, huh?” demanded Yukimura.

“Just that, promise.” said Renji, softly. “...thanks for calling, Seiichi.”

“No problem. Now, spill. Is he a good kisser?” asked Yukimura, with a mischievous grin.

“He was seven-point-eight, a few months ago. But he’s much better now. Practise makes perfect, after all. And he’ll be even better very soon.” said Renji, his voice amused. 

Yukimura’s laughter echoed off the walls, as he curled back into his scarf, for a long conversation with his best friend.


	2. Problems

Sanada's mind was fairly tensed and empty, as she waited in the reception for the lady to sign her in. When the lady found her name on the list, she let out a shaky breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her grandfather patted her back and they walked to the waiting rooms, where there were a few practise stages.

“You’ll do just fine.” he said, his old voice a little croaky. “Just loosen up and stop being as old as me, understood?”

“Hai, ojii-sama.” she said, seriously. She was here to win. She _would_ beat Matsumoto. 

“That’s what I’m talking about.” he said, with a frown. “You’re young! Act it! Nobosuke acts more like a child than you do.” 

“Nii-sama’s a lazy slacker, that’s hardly a surprise.” said Sanada with a light snort, as she unpacked her shinai and slowly started to oil it down. She’d taken care of it last night, but her nerves were running high and she needed something to keep her hands occupied. 

Her grandfather just leant on his walking stick, then took her spare shinai from the bag. “Come, Chihiro.” he said, with a smirk. “Try and beat your old man. Put on your kit.”

Sanada’s eyes widened momentarily, before she smirked, and reached for her _kote_ and _do_ , lovingly removing the new kit from her bag. Once those were tightly tied around her chest and hands, she reached for the _men_ and placed that over her head. The _tare_ weighed her hips down and she adjusted it absently, before picking up her shinai and facing her ojii-sama.

Breathe in and out. Let all the worries fade away. You couldn’t win a match if you were afraid of losing. Because kendo was a battle with yourself, not your opponent.

She reacted instinctively to her grandfather’s inquisitive jab and she countered with a fluid stroke. As swift as the flowing wind. She was instantly stopped by her grandfather’s shinai again and she breathed in. She wouldn’t lose her ground. As immovable as the noble mountain.

She waited, her own brown eyes meeting the grey ones of her grandfather. She stuck, quickly and smoothly, with a sharp cry. Attack like the raging fire. But it just dissipated against her grandfather’s block and she retreated quickly, with the compactness of the tight forest. 

She played her best, but no matter how hard she pushed, her grandfather was one step ahead of her. They finished finally, as her grandfather’s shinai slipped past her block and lightly tapped her _do_. But she had held no qualms about defeating her grandfather. She was not a master at her skill yet. She had only recently reached third dan. She still had many, many years to go before she would ever reach his calibre. 

“Dear granddaughter if you play like that against Matsumoto, there is no doubt you will win.” said her grandfather, calmly. He was barely panting, despite his age. 

“Hai, ojii-sama.” said Sanada, as she collapsed to her knees and touched his feet. Her breath was heavy but her mind was finally tranquil.

He gripped her shoulders as she came back up. “You seem to have a guest.” he said, looking vaguely amused. 

Sanada turned around, her _mendare_ flapping as she went. Yukimura-kun waited by the door, leaning against the doorway, his eyes bored straight at her back. At any other point, she would have blushed, but she just bowed to her grandfather and turned to Yukimura.

She removed the _men_ and shook out her hair. “Yu– Seiichi-kun.” she greeted, as she tucked the men under her arm. “You came, after all.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Chihiro.” said Yukimura, smoothly, as he straightened and bowed shallowly to both her and her retreating grandfather. 

Sanada nodded and her smile was small but confident. “I made it to the finals, so I did better than last year.”

“Which means that you’ll win.” said Yukimura, easily. “That was a good game against your grandfather.”

“I lost, though.” said Sanada, with a shrug. “In tennis, that’s not what you’d call a good game.”

Yukimura blinked. “Didn’t your shinai make contact with your grandfather more often?” he asked, and Sanada felt somewhat pleased that he even knew that it was called a shinai. Most people barely knew that. 

“It’s not like fencing or tennis, where only points that make contact, count. It’s all about timing and execution and which move was more appropriate in the situation and whether you are ready to strike again afterwards.” explained Sanada, as she took a seat next to her stuff and started to re-oil the shinai. “Which is why there are a panel of judges, to make sure that things aren’t too biased.”

Yukimura nodded as he took a seat on the floor next to her, his feet elegantly sliding into seiza, like Sanada. “The three people with the flags.”

Sanada agreed, with a small smile. “You already saw a match?”

Yukimura just smirked and tapped the side of his nose. “Secret~”

Sanada just shook her head, with an amused look. “If you keep too many secrets, people will start thinking you have communication problems.”

Yukimura snorted and pressed a hand t his lips, clearly trying to stave off the laughter threatening to erupt. Sanada blinked. Had it really been so funny? Maybe it was funny because she was saying it. She knew that she wasn’t the best at communicating with people. She couldn’t stop the smile touching her face though. 

Yukimura presently recovered and smiled. “You’re in that zone you get into for tennis already, aren’t you? Would it be too much of a distraction if I gave you a good-luck kiss?”

Sanada paused. Would it be? She liked to think she was better than that, but she always chose the most inopportune moments to act _just_ like a stupid girl. “I don’t think so.” she said, carefully, as she started to adjusted the straps on her _men_. 

Yukimura tossed her a contemplative look, then took her right hand and held it between both of his. He peeled off the _kote_ and ran his hands over her own. Sanada just watched his face, feeling a little concerned. Was something the matter? He pulled up her right hand to his lips and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the part of her hand where the veins protruded. With a slight blush, Sanada noted that, yes, that was Yukimura’s tongue darting out against her skin, and yes, it did feel sinfully good. 

His mouth disconnected from Sanada’s skin gracefully and he sent her a half-lidded gaze as he rubbed a thumb over the area he’d just kissed. “A good luck to the hand that wields the sword.” he said, quietly, as he placed the _kote_ back on her hand, gently. “May it serve you well.”

He winked and got back up, losing the somewhat trance-like state he’d been in. “I’ve got to grab my seat before someone else takes it. See you soon, Chihiro!”

Sanada watched him go and finally turned a shade of red that was probably the colour of the koi in the pond back home. Damnit. She folded her feet into lotus position and took in deep breaths, clearing her mind. The only thing in her mind now would have to be Matsumoto. 

“So...you moved on from Tezuka, hmm?” asked her grandfather and Sanada almost jumped a mile. 

“Ojii-sama!” she exclaimed, in shock. Then she scowled. Damnit. He had been watching this whole time. She’d been keeping Yukimura from the house because she’d been hoping to avoid this....

“You weren’t stringing the Tezuka boy along, were you?” he asked, curiously.

“We were never involved in the first place.” said Sanada, firmly. Exactly what she'd thought he'd say. “I’m sorry ojii-sama, but because you and Tezuka-ojii-san were old rivals, it doesn't mean that Tezuka-kun and I are going to resolve your conflict.” This wasn’t a samurai tale, after all. 

Her grandfather chuckled. “It’s good to know that you do let up somewhere, Chihiro. So tell me about the lucky boy that managed to touch my dear granddaughter’s heart, hmm?”

“Ojii-sama!” she exclaimed. ”It’s not the time!” she said, feeling a little surprised that even her grandfather was having trouble focusing on kendo. 

“Oh, but where else will I get to intimidate him?” he asked, with a chuckle and Sanada buried her face in her hands. This. This was why she never wanted to bring Yukimura home. Her grandfather, her brother, her nephew and her mother. The only one who was vaguely tolerable about these things was her father, and he was almost never home anyway, off doing government business in other countries. 

Her brother would mercilessly tease her about her iron heart cracking and he’d never leave Yukimura alone. Her nephew would probably try and spend more time with Yukimura than she could, and her mother would worry about every little detail about Yukimura and his family and whether he was suitable omiai material and whether he was being proper and if his hair was actually dyed and whether he was doing well in school and a billion other unnecessary things. 

She would never be able to show Yukimura home without her family scaring him off. And that idea saddened her, because she disliked being dishonest and she loved Yukimura very much. And she wanted her family to know. They would just disagree, because he was everything that Tezuka wasn’t. 

“Come now, Chihiro.” he said, clapping his hand on her shoulder, leaning down on the (unnecessary) walking stick. “The competition is starting soon.”

Sanada nodded and stood up. She placed the _men_ on top of her head and tightened the _mendare_. She was ready to win, emotion threatening to encroach on her perfectly ordered world or not. 

The rest was hazy. She just remembered the reassuring touch of her grandfather’s hand on her shoulder before she went out to greet Matsumoto-san and the sharp, unwavering gaze of Yukimura upon her through her match. All that remained in her head were the basic kata and the slight flexes of Matsumoto’s muscles through the loose fabric of the kendo uniforms. 

And finally, when her victory was called, she felt nothing but a sense of pride as she bowed to Matsumoto and congratulated her opponent on an amazing game. She’d won the nationals singles for the Youth Division at eighteen years of age. She’d done it. 

In the end, the gold medal at the ceremony was worthless in comparison to the feelings she had now, the self-content she felt at that moment. Perhaps in the future, it would mean more to her, but for now, her heart was her ruler. 

She got changed out of her kendo clothing with Matsumoto in near silence, but when she made her way out of the door, her grandfather and Yukimura were in deep conversation, next to the window that showed the night-sky. It was already very late. She walked up to them and they fell silent. That meant they had been discussing her. She wasn’t good at communication, but it didn’t mean she was blind. 

“Seiichi. Thanks for coming to watch.” she said, with a brisk nod. She wanted him to stay longer, but he wasn’t staying at a hotel room like Sanada and her grandfather were, and he probably had to get home. “I’ll see you at school? Unless we’re planning a match anytime soon?”

“I’m free most of the break.” said Yukimura with a wide smile. “If you’d like to play a set or two, just send me a text.” He leant in, propped up on her arms as a balance, and kissed her cheek softly, before withdrawing. “Don’t forget Huhari-sensei’s homework!”

Sanada nodded after him and raised her hand to touch her cheek softly. Her grandfather noticed and chuckled. Sanada pulled her hand away sharply, to shoulder her things. “Ready, ojii-sama? Would you like me to carry your bags?”

“No, no. Today’s your day.” said her grandfather, lightly. “You should have asked him out to dinner.”

“He had to go home, he always buys two-way tickets to trains.” said Sanada, coolly. “Besides, I’ll see him soon. No need to rush.” She was already falling too hard, too fast. She had to space herself from him a little. 

Her grandfather just smiled. “So, you’re going to celebrate with old me, instead of your glamourous boyfriend, dear Chihiro?”

Sanada blinked. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Of course. This is a kendo victory. You brought me here, to the finals, ojii-sama. I owe this victory to you. And it’s rare I get to monopolize so much of your time, ojii-sama. I wish to utilise it.” she said, honestly. “Were it a tennis victory, it is Seiichi who I would go with. But it is not.” 

Her grandfather smiled softly. “You are so very different to Nobosuke. He followed his love away from his family.”

Sanada’s lips parted softly and pressed themselves back together firmly, in her usual frown. 

Her parents had wanted to call her Genichirou when she’d been born, because they’d expected a boy. It was indeed rare that the Sanada line ever bore girls. She had been expected to be better than Nobosuke and that had only increased when Nobosuke had gone and got his girlfriend pregnant, when he’d just been in high school. 

Duty was her main priority. “My family and my duty comes first, as it always has and always will.” she said, stiffly, closing off her heart. She couldn’t do what Nobosuke had done. “Come on ojii-sama, we’ll miss the bus back to the hotel.” 

(X)

The winter break passed with relative peace. Yukimura studied a bit, but knew that he didn’t have to try too hard. He’d ace the art test and the others he’d pass, even if not with flying colours. Sanada never called him back for a match, but she did text him on Christmas and for New Years, a beautiful calligraphy greeting fluttered through the front door.

And though Yukimura’s innate impatience strained against him, he forced the veneer of calm over it. He was patient for art, for tennis and for gardening. He could be patient for Sanada. It was enough, for now.

And finally, the school term rolled around again and it was back to the morning routine of tennis, tennis, and more tennis (even if the tennis season had technically been over for a long time, Yukimura hardly cared. He wasn’t handing over power until the last moment that he had to, and Akaya was not eager to take over again, after what had happened in middle school.)

He was setting up the nets with Marui on the first day back, early in the morning, earlier than Yukimura liked to be awake. “So, Renji was telling me that you had an interesting break.” said Marui snapping his gum.

“Oh really?” said Yukimura, interestedly. He’d have to talk to Renji about gossiping. 

“Mmm. Something about a date with Sanada-chan?” asked Marui, his eyes sparkling as he picked up the net and Yukimura just smiled. 

“Yes. It was lovely. We went to go see Federer and Murray play at the Forest Arena.” said Yukimura, as he tightened the string around the pole and ordered Marui to pull. Usually, he made the freshmen do this, but they weren’t around. Someone had managed to warn them about his tendencies. He suspected Niou. Or Yagyuu. But since those two had started playing mixed doubles in their free time, they were practically interchangeable. 

“So, you’ve fulfilled the dare, huh? No wonder Renji sounded kinda annoyed.” said Bunta, with a smirk. 

“Come on, he doesn’t reveal anything in his voice.” said Yukimura, lightly as he crouched down to adjust a part of the net that had flipped over. Renji had wanted them to get together, there wouldn’t have been annoyance. “You’re making it up to add drama.” 

“Okay....maybe I am....” said Marui, guiltily, before grinning as he too crouched down to tie the net. “So what are you going to do now? I mean, now that you did the dare, you don’t have to date her again, right?”

“I didn’t think of that.” said Yukimura, firmly. The idea hadn’t even occurred to him, because it was preposterous. 

Just then, there was a choked noise behind him. Yukimura turned around and saw a shocked looking Sanada. She shot him a betrayed look, before turning heel and running. 

Yukimura didn’t think he could have stood up any faster if the hounds of hell themselves were at his heels. He ran after her immediately, abandoning Marui and the nets without even thinking. “Chihiro! Chihiro! Damnit, Chihiro!” he yelled after her, his hand outstretched. His jacket was somewhere back on the tennis courts, it had fallen off his shoulders while he’d been running.

But she ran faster than he could and as they started to near the basketball courts, Yukimura slowed and stopped. He still had to run tennis practise: especially since Sanada had just left. Yagyuu and Renji wouldn’t be able to run the entire practise. “Damnit!” he swore, running a hand through his hair. “You messed that one up, Yukimura. Idiot!”

He closed his eyes and turned back around to jog back to the tennis courts. He’d catch her at the washitsu today at lunch, and explain. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

But, that plan was miserably stopped in its tracks. The moment that he entered the classroom, he’d attempted to take a seat next to her so he could explain. However, she’d just stood up and switched with another member of the class. He would have followed her through the classroom, (for Yukimura was nothing, if not persistent), had _sensei_ not shown up at that precise moment. 

His attempts to send her notes during class were thwarted by the fact _she kept ripping them up without reading them_. Not that Yukimura would have done anything different, had it been him, but how was he supposed to explain how deeply he’d fallen for her _if he couldn’t talk to her?_

At lunch, she was at none of the places that they usually met or where she’d even spent lunches before they’d become friends. And it was then, that Yukimura realized that he might have just permanently ruined what they’d had. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’d never been good at dealing with his temper. He had played tennis to get rid of it and watched others suffer, while he hid it deep inside. But it had always simmered, beneath the thin veneer of a smile. 

And now, his temper was directed both at himself and at Marui. Marui was easy to punish; 200 laps and 30 suicide drills and he’d remember exactly why things revealed at sleepovers, stayed at the sleepover. 

But he didn’t know how to deal with himself. Because, he _had_ started out with only the intention to complete Renji’s dare. 

He spent that evening entrenched in Art, instead of doing homework, drawing Sanada’s face and body when playing tennis. He painted it too, because the sketch was rough and raw and full of motion and emotion. It was one of his best works, he mused, as he stepped back away from it, at almost eleven at night. 

And, he wrapped it in cloth, and brought it to school the next day. He handed it to Renji and asked him to give it to Sanada, lying and saying that Beautification Committee had a meeting at lunch which meant he couldn’t hand it over like he’d promised. Renji, by the skeptical look on his face, knew that he was lying (he probably had their meeting schedule memorised), but didn’t comment, to Yukimura’s relief. 

But there was no comment from Sanada. Nothing whatsoever. Yukimura hoped she hadn’t thrown it away, but he wouldn’t have put it past her. He would have burned it, in her place. 

His texts were ignored. Any attempts to talk to her were rebuffed. Any emails were left to rot in the depths of cyber-space. Notes were ripped up. 

And so, their near-daily communication was reduced to nothing within the space of a day. And it extended for two whole weeks.

There was an old addendum. You don’t miss something until it is gone. Yukimura had known that before, but it really did strike a chord with him now. Guillain Barre had taught him of the importance of holding onto something before it went away. The problem was, that Yukimura hadn’t taken her for granted. He knew that he liked her and that he’d fallen hard for her. 

Which was why it stung more. 

But he was nothing if not persistent. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At the end of the second week, Yukimura couldn’t stand it anymore. The guilt was scratching at the inside of his throat, like a persistent itch that he couldn’t scratch, and he was bursting with a million different things to say. His personality had suffered during those two weeks. He’d snapped at people who’d gotten too close or too personal. The tennis club were running more grueling drills and practices than was strictly necessary in winter, and he was losing some of the sub-regulars to his cruel regime. 

Some people were starting to wonder whether he’d gotten Guillain Barre again or ask whether something had gone awfully wrong. Only those closest to him had known why. And finally, Renji had gotten fed up of Yukimura’s temper being ice-thin and told him to swallow his pride and speak to Sanada.

Yukimura had shouted at Renji then, telling him how much he’d been trying to get her to notice him. 

And Renji had just looked at him and told him that if he’d really wanted to get her back, he would be trying with more than the half-hearted efforts he’d been placing so far.

Renji knew him too well. If he told himself the truth, he was scared. Yukimura didn’t give his heart out so easily. Nobody had yet even got that close to holding it like Sanada had. Not even his little sister, who he loved so very dearly. Definitely not those girls that he’d dated for a few days to pacify them and experiment. Not even Renji, somebody who knew him inside out. 

Nobody had gotten as close as Sanada.

It was why he was even here, outside the Sanada House. It was cold, he was without his multiple layers and practically shivering and chattering on the doorstep for it and he was sure it was going to rain later that night, but he was here anyway. He knocked on the door nervously and tucked his hands under his armpits to keep them warm. 

The door was opened by Sanada’s grandfather and Yukimura remembered the conversation on the day of the kendo match about how difficult Sanada found it to open up and how he was grateful that she’d found someone like him. It seemed like a world away, now that Yukimura was no longer in Sanada’s good graces. 

“You’ve done enough, have you not?” asked her grandfather, his voice lightly prodding.

“No, I didn’t do nearly enough to keep her.” said Yukimura, calmly. He knew this game well. “The words she heard were out of context.”

“Were they, now?” asked the older man and Yukimura quirked his eyebrows, inbetween shivers. 

“Of course, Sanada-ojii-sama.” he said, calmly. “She’s not somebody I could so easily dismiss or let go.” He let his eyes speak the depths he couldn’t express in words. “I wish to explain things to her. If she will not have me, even after my explanation, then I will leave and not bother her again. But she has not listened to a word I’ve been trying to say.”

Her grandfather nodded and stepped aside. “Well, don’t let me stop you. You know the way, I presume.” he said, dryly. 

Yukimura just looked innocent as he slid out of his shoes and practically melted in the heat of the Sanada household. He turned to make his way through the labyrinth that Sanada called a house, when her grandfather called her. 

Yukimura turned around. “Yes?” he asked, politely.

“Your painting was beautiful, comparable to the works of Sesshu Toyo.” he said, before he turned back towards the gardens, where he had evidently been heading before Yukimura had knocked. Yukimura blinked. Was that approval? He hoped so. 

He made his way to Sanada’s room and saw the light peeking out from under the edge of her door. 

“Chihiro.” he said, “I’m coming in.” 

There were quick steps and Yukimura almost expected the door to swing open and for her to slap him. That would have been preferable to what she did do, which was lock the door and then, judging by the blockage of the light through the door, sit down against it, to make sure that Yukimura couldn’t push it open. 

Yukimura let out a sigh as he tested the door. Yep. It wasn’t budging. So Yukimura slid down to mirror her sitting pose, leaning against the door. “You know, it started out as just a dare. I’ll admit that freely. It was a dare to see who could crack the Ice-Queen’s facade.” he said, softly, as he pulled his hands through his hair. He didn’t mention Renji’s matchmaking or the fact that he’d issued the dare. Let Sanada assume it was Niou or Marui.

“But from the moment that you served on that first game we played, it stopped being about that. The moment you showed me your passion, I realized there wasn’t anything to break, because I was wrong about you and I wanted to know more about you.” admitted Yukimura, quietly. He didn’t know who was watching or listening. He hoped it was just Sanada and not her brother or nephew. 

“I fell for you. Your smile, your passion, the way you spoke, those adorable expressions you make when you think nobody’s looking. You played tennis in a way that challenged me like never before and you were extremely attractive.” said Yukimura, swallowing his pride and complimented her, hoping she was blushing behind the door instead of scowling. 

“And finally, getting you to date me stopped being about the dare and started being about having you for myself, because I’m a selfish person who would want to keep beauty with me always.” he finished. 

“...I never meant to hurt you. I never intended to be like those other boys who would ask you and leave you there. I _wasn’t_ like them, but I might have hurt you more. I’m sorry. I...think I might just love you, Sanada Chihiro, so please don’t walk away and break my heart.” he said, his voice, an almost whisper. 

There was a click as the door unlocked and Yukimura only just managed to straighten up and stand, before Sanada opened the door. She was still scowling...but there was a light flush over her cheeks that was slowly fading. “This isn’t me forgiving you.” she said, stubbornly, her arms crossed over her chest. “But I accept your apology and your courtship.” 

Yukimura let an eyebrow raise in amusement, (courtship, really?) before he leant forward and up to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. She looked hesitant but when Yukimura leant in to give her a proper kiss, she kissed him back, her arms coming around him. 

“Your painting was amazing.” she said, softly, as they pulled back for breath. “Even ojii-sama liked it. Mother put it in one of the showcase rooms.” 

Yukimura smiled, lightly. “Good. My subject made the painting all the more valuable. It deserves to be with those ancient vases and antiques because of you.” 

Her eyes widened and she leant in for another kiss, which turned into another ten, easily. He was forgiven, he knew. She just didn’t want to let him off the hook so easily. 

Girls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yukimura shouldered his drawing board over his shoulder, the next day, and frowned at Jackal, when sensei wasn’t looking. Jackal just shrugged. “Need a hand? he asked, lightly.

“No, I’m good.” said Yukimura. “But why are we moving to the choir room and not the other way around?”

“They can’t move their piano.” said Jackal, matter-of-factly. “It took me, Sanada-chan and Yanagi ten minutes to move it four inches when we got roped into it for the Festival last year.”

Yukimura sighed and precariously balanced his deluxe pencil set and the many, many sheets of paper on his elbows, in order to open the choir room door. To his surprise, it was Sanada’s choir class. 

Well then. This gesture drawing session just got more interesting. He smiled at Sanada, who sighed and glowered at him. Yukimura just met her gaze evenly, as he set up his chair closer to the front than he usually preferred. The choir teacher barked a few rules about being quiet and not doing anything to distract the choir singers when they were singing and performing. 

Right. For now. Yukimura leant back in his chair and tapped his pencil against his face as they all started singing. They were good. All their voices worked in a nice harmony and they were all in tune, but Yukimura was also waiting for the ensemble songs to end to start sketching Sanada. 

And, came her solo. She stepped forward a little and looked up towards the clock. And for an instant, Yukimura could almost see a spotlight on her. The shadows were optimal, he might have said, were he more like Renji. Instead, he just started sketching, letting the sound of her strong voice wash over him as he let the slight drawing haze take over him.

Her strong jaw with three straight, controlled lines. The softer curves of her figure with a lighter curve dictated by his elbow bending and not his wrist. The creases in her uniform with little feather marks and the texture of the skin on her arms and face with tiny dots that were barely there.

Slowly, three drawings started to make their way through the haze and Yukimura sat back a little, as the choir transitioned into a different number with a different soloist. It didn’t matter, anyway, her image was firmly imprinted in his mind. 

He’d never ever had a solid muse. It had always been whatever was more important at the time, just like the old impressionist artists. But he found that he could get used to having Sanada as a muse. If only she was more cooperative a model....

“Now then, choose a choir member and they’ll answer any questions and pose in any _reasonable_ ways.” stressed his art teacher and Yukimura just smiled angelically at Sanada, who sighed and walked to his chair, after nodding to Jackal cordially, who cheerfully waved back.

“You’re enjoying this.” said Sanada, with a sigh, as she crossed behind him to look at his drawings. Her eyes widened. “...that’s not me.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, with the added bonus of making her boobs stick out more. 

“It’s definitely you.” said Yukimura, blandly. “You’re prettier than you think.”

“You’re drawing something from your imagination, because that’s not me.” said Sanada, firmly. 

Yukimura just smiled. “Believe what you will, but you are my only muse, Chihiro-chan.” he said, with a wink. She blushed deeply red in response and thwapped his shoulder.

“Seiichi.” she admonished. “You’re supposed to be drawing me.”

“Just sing for me normally, and all the art will come from that.” said Yukimura, as he flicked over a new sheet of paper and tapped the pencil to his face again in thought about what angle he would have to move to capture her in her glory. 

Sanada’s face twitched and her mouth dimpled briefly. “You have smudge marks all over your face.” she said, with her mouth clearly struggling to not smile. 

Yukimura nodded, absently, before he realized what she’d said. “Where?” he asked, wearily. He was used to the mess with charcoal...but this was just graphite. 

“Here.” said Sanda, tapping a spot on her cheek, as she pulled over her music stand. 

Yukimura licked his finger and rubbed his cheek. “Gone?”

Sanada shook her head. “Up a bit.”

Yukimura rubbed near his eyes. “Here?”

“Too high.” she said, as she rolled her eyes and leant forward to rub his cheek free of smudging. Her fingers were coarse across his face as she rubbed, and it was at that moment, unfortunately, that most of the class turned around to look at the teacher behind them at spotted Yukimura and Sanada.

There were some gasps from the girls and a few laughs from the guys and Sanada sprung back, looking embarrassed. But Yukimura, just smirked languidly and tapped his pencil against his face again, quite deliberately creating more smudges. It made her twitch, just a little. “Just sing and look natural. I don’t need you to pose in any way to make you look prettier.” 

Sanada flushed again, but took a deep breath. “Mitsuki-chan, do you want to sing Silent Night?” she asked, coolly, trying to control the dull red flush in her tanned face.

“Sure, why not, Sanada-chan?” said the girl, twirling her long hair around her finger. “You start though.” 

Sanada nodded, licked her lips and broke into a husky alto, her eyes shut as she let the innate depth in her voice shine through. Yukimura slowly started sketching, capturing the looseness in her arms, but the rigid, coiled tension in her ramrod straight back. It made for a wonderful picture. 

When she and Mitsuki finished, the class broke into applause and Sanada flushed as she got a bit closer to Yukimura and everyone went back to what they were doing. “My masterpiece.” said Yukimura, with a small smile, as he showed her the paper of herself. 

Sanada’s face contorted. “That can’t be me, right? It’s too pretty.”

“If anything,” said Yukimura with a small smile, “I haven’t captured nearly enough of your beauty.”

“Yukimura, Sanada!” snapped the art teacher. “Stop flirting and get back to work.”

The entire class laughed and Yukimura joined in, as Sanada flushed and stepped away again. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sniffing fiercely, Yukimura tried to stop feeling like crap by sheer willpower. It wasn’t working. He’d fallen suddenly ill that morning, with a cold that felt more like the black death. His sister had had no sympathy for him, jumping straight on top of him in the morning when he hadn’t immediately arisen with his alarm, and had jumped straight off him with a disgusted eww, when he'd sneezed at her. 

His mother had been far more helpful and had left him three large boxes of tissues, easily microwaveable soup on the counter and cold medicine, all of which had been copiously used throughout the day.

Usually a cold didn’t bother Yukimura. In the past, he’d just worn a mask and gone to school, careful to wash his hands frequently. But ever since his brush with Guillain Barre, his immune system had become practically useless. He had to be very careful about catching even minor colds, since they could be like pneumonia if his immune system couldn’t fight it off. Yukimura wondered which classmate he had to skewer for making him ill. 

He finally gave up on trying to sniff it away and miserably grabbed another tissue to blow into, feeling his nose sting from the sheer amount of trauma it had been put through, so far. He hated being ill, with a fervent passion, more than he hated idiots and hospital chemicals. 

Yukimura shut his eyes, with a sigh and sunk into his covers. Perhaps, he would try to sleep again. Success didn’t seem imminent, but it was worth a shot. 

He stirred from his half-doze at the sound of his door opening. Yukimura propped himself up on his elbows, ready to shoo his sister away, when he blinked at the sight of Sanada at his doorstep. “Hello.” he said, through a stuffed nose. “Didn’t you get my text?” He’d texted Renji and Sanada before he’d started to wallow in his sickness, with explanation for his absence.

“Ahh, I got it.” Sanada sad, as she placed her bag on the floor. “But I thought I’d bring you the homework you missed. But you look very ill, so you should just rest. I’ll make you some tea. That’s good for clearing up congestion.” she said, almost rambling. It wasn’t like Sanada to talk quite so much.

Yukimura smiled softly. He sort of wanted to protest the tea thing since she was a guest at his place, but at the same time, it sounded good. “Thank you.” he said, softly, as she momentarily departed. He didn’t like depending on other people for much, but he supposed that everyone couldn’t do everything. 

She returned quickly, handing him a steaming cup of nice-smelling tea and Yukimura propped himself up a little higher to accept the tea. She perched on his desk chair at the opposite side of the room and frowned. 

“Did practise go okay with you and Renji?” asked Yukimura, as he took a deep sip of the tea. It was scalding hot, but it felt good against his throat. 

“Well enough.” said Sanada, lacing her fingers together. “I think the team loses some motivation without you around, however. Especially since it is drawing close to the end of the year.” she admitted, with a frown. 

“The third years are useless, ignore them. The second years were trying, weren’t they?” asked Yukimura, gulping down a little more tea, hissing slightly at the sensation on his tongue. 

Sanada frowned. “Drink it slowly.” she chastised. “They were trying more than the third years. But they were still tarundoru.”

“By my standards or yours?” asked Yukimura, letting the tea cool a little. It was nice to be able to both flirt with Sanada and still be able to talk business at other points. 

“Your standards.” said Sanada, with a slight nod. “I slapped some into sense, and I think the others got the hint. Nevertheless, they will always perform better when you’re around.” She shifted a little and frowned. "How ill are you, Seiichi?” she asked, softly. 

“It’s technically just a cold, but my immune system is about as defenceless as a toddler’s.” said Yukimura, with a faint laugh that ended in a coughing fit and another blown nose. “Hey, if you figure out which arsehole has a cold in our class, give him a telling-off from me, would you? I put up health posters everywhere at the beginning of my tenure as Beautification Committee Head for a reason.”

Sanada nodded, firmly. “I’ll be sure to, Seiichi.” she said, as she walked up to him and squeezed his hand, gently. “I have to head home now, since ojii-sama’s expecting me, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? “I’ll not be well enough to be in school tomorrow, Chihiro.” said Yukimura, weakly. 

“Not that. I’m coming over again tomorrow. I’ll bring some chicken stock and make you some actual broth. Canned soup is disgusting for colds.” she said, with a wrinkle of her nose. 

Oh. Yukimura smiled, gratefully. That was much appreciated, it was more boring than anything, being stuck in this bed. It was too similar to his previous experiences. “Just stay here with me. I want some cuddles and you’re like a furnace, you’re perfect.” he said, tugging at her hand. 

She chuckled, softly. “Nice try, Seiichi. but I’ll be no use to you tomorrow if I catch your cold, as well.” She squeezed his hand softly. “Rest well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She let herself out and Yukimura groaned as he sunk back into the bed, placing the empty tea-cup on his crowded table-bedside. Despite how ill-advised it was, he had really wanted to cuddle up to Sanada and feel her heat against him. Perhaps he would have been able to sleep, then. 

Was he becoming too dependent upon her? Perhaps. But Yukimura couldn’t bring himself to regret it.


	3. Chapter 3

Yukimura adjusted the pins holding up his hair extensions and blinked owlishly at the mirror, as he frantically worked to stop the _kushi_ comb slipping from his hair. He really did look like a girl, he mused, as he finished. This was depressing. Especially since he currently looked prettier than most of the girls in his year. 

He sighed as he shook down the elaborate furisode sleeves and pursed his red-painted lips. He could put up for it for one day. After all, he wasn’t the only one. All of the boys in his class were becoming maiko for a day. 

He turned away from his full-length mirror and looked at the rest of the boys in the changing room and stifled a giggle. At least he didn’t look ridiculous in this get-up. He moved forward to help Kirata-kun with his obi, tucking it in properly and making sure that Kirata wouldn’t trip over it. Kirata-kun shot him a grateful look and Yukimura just smiled enigmatically, before drifting over to Renji’s corner of the dressing room. 

He was already dressed in a beautiful furisode and looked far more elegant and graceful than everyone in their class, even Yukimura. His willowy figure suited the graceful, grey iromuji kimono of the tea ceremony. “You look like you’re used to this style.” said Yukimura casually, as he lifted his arms to prevent the long sleeves of his furisode from disturbing the careful piles of teas that Renji was making. 

“Sadaharu was rather enamoured by a cosplay I did of a women from one of his historical novels.” said Renji casually, as his deft fingers sorted through the good leaves and the bad. “So yes, I’ve worn it before, which might be the reason you think that I look comfortable in it.” 

Yukimura’s eyebrows rose and he spread his fan in front of his face and fanned, in order to hide the giggles. It was best to get into his character now, just to get used to being the demure maiden Seiko and not the bold leader of the tennis team, Seiichi. 

Renji smirked at his actions. “I don’t envy you your job, Seiichi. All I have to do is the tea ceremony, and I could do that with my eyes closed. You have to actually act like a geisha.” 

Yukimura lowered his fan and gazed out from under his extended eyelashes coyly. “Oh, but dear Renji, someone has to be fabulous. And I’m perfect for the job, since being graceful is as natural as breathing.” 

Renji just chuckled and went back to his tea-sorting and labelling. Yukimura swept towards the door, after giving up on the rest of his classmates looking anywhere near as refined as he would. Anyway, since he was done changing, he could make himself useful by decorating the public classrooms or lifting heavy things for the girls. 

As he left the changing rooms, he was greeted by a giggling group of Vocaloids. “Ah, Yukimura-kun! You look so good!” they exclaimed, patting his kimono in awe. For once, Yukimura was glad for his short stature. It meant that fitting into his mother’s kimono had been much easier. 

He smiled and bowed like the maiko had done, when he’d visited Kyoto a couple of years ago. “Thank you.” he said, with a fluttering, high voice, that he’d stolen from a k-pop idol. 

“Have you seen Sanada-chan yet?” asked Len Kagamine, with a bright glance. “She’s looking so cool!”

Yukimura’s eyes flashed. The girls in their homeroom were being samurai and Sanada was in his homeroom. Well, he’d already known this, since Beautification Committee were in charge of all the themes for the winter school festival. But it had rather slipped his mind as he’d been pre-occupied with the organization of his own costume and his script of the upcoming school play in March. 

“No, I haven’t actually.” said Yukimura, not dropping the fake voice. “Is she already in 2-A?”

The other girls nodded and waved. “We’ve got to go greet people! Good luck, Yukimura-kun!”

Yukimura swept along to his homeroom, smiling and bowing to people as he passed. He was curious to see how Sanada looked as a samurai. 

He pushed open the sliding door to 2A’s classroom and wasn’t surprised to see he was the first boy into the room. Mostly, the classroom was full of girls painting on stubble to each other and setting up the instruments for their performance. 

“Oh, Yukimura-kun!” squealed some of the girls again and Yukimura demurely covered his face and bowed. “Dono-tachi. You do me great honour with your patronage.” They all laughed as he winked, and lowered the fan. “Need any help?” he asked, dropping to his normal pitch, as he tucked his fan into his obi. 

“No, we’re good for now, Yukimura-kun.” said another girl. “Go sit out in the corner. You and Sanada-chan have the more ornate costumes. You shouldn’t ruin them before anything’s even happened.” 

Yukimura looked around. Where was she anyway? “Over here.” said Sanada’s husky voice, from where she stood in the corner, looking supremely comfortable in a perfectly accurate costume. She looked far more like Tokugawa or Masamune than any of the plastic suits that most of the girls were wearing. 

She also looked extremely attractive. Her sharp, almost masculine features were highlighted by the curved _kabuto_ and the heavy, formal kimono she wore flattered her figure almost better than any feminine kimono would have. 

Yukimura’s eyebrows rose as he drifted over. “It looks like it belongs in a museum.” he said, in wonder, as he plucked at the heavy fabric and tapped at the decorated metal. “And you look like an authentic samurai.” 

“It does, really. But it’s a family heirloom, so great-grandfather didn’t want to give it away. And grandfather knows I won’t do anything to it to damage it.” said Sanada, with a sly smile. She didn’t look much like herself at all, looking more like a Sanada samurai from the past. “You look amazing, by the way.”

Yukimura just smiled enigmatically. “Of course I do.” he said, dismissively. “Did you bring your katana with you, Chihiro? Will you be demonstrating any kendo with it?”

Sanada nodded, as she patted the elaborate sheath that was strapped to her waist. “I don’t think the school will let me demonstrate with live steel, no matter how blunt it is, but I’ll show it off to visitors.”

Yukimura smiled. “I’ll have to make rounds around all of the guests, but I’ll linger here for as long as possible. The most handsome samurai gets to be patroned by the most beautiful geisha, after all.” 

Sanada chuckled. “How humble of you, Seiichi.” 

Yukimura laughed. “Never claimed to be~” he said, with a laugh. “On the other hand, Seiko is more humble, so she wouldn’t say anything of the sort. She would insist that her sister Renge looks far more beautiful.”

“Renji’s not here actually. Did he get delayed?” asked Sanada, curiously, as she removed her kabuto and smoothed out her short hair, which was tied back into a tight bun. 

“He’s still sorting out the tea. Apparently someone didn’t get good quality leaves, so he has to sort through all the tins and pick them out.” said Yukimura, pulling a face. “He was actually the first dressed out of all of us.” 

Sanada frowned. “Tarundoru. We’re showcasing Rikkai here. The least they could do is make it good.” 

Yukimura nodded. “Hmm. Thanks to this mishap, we may run out of tea halfway through. I asked Bunta to go make a run for it to try and get us more of the popular blends, but he and his class are busy with making the games and the dunk tank functional.”

Sanada tilted her head sideways. “Kirihara?”

“Even more busy. The freshmen are in charge of showing everyone around and Akaya’s stuck running errands and messages between all of the tourguides.” explained Yukimura. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to it, and Akaya’s got enough energy to do it for the whole day.” 

Sanada’s lips twitched. “Well, we’ll have to hope that we don’t run out, then.” 

Yukimura’s hands ached to go smooth out his hair or even twist a strand of it around his finger and fiddle like he usually did, but this hairstyle ruined any chance of that. “I hate waiting around like this. I want to go run around and check that everyone’s all ready for the people to come in.” whispered Yukimura to Sanada in an undertone. 

“Just trust them.” said Sanada, with a nod. “Your committee are good at their job. You just need to stay here and trust that they’re competent. Perhaps you want to practise your role, while you’re waiting?”

Yukimura tossed a cool look to Sanada. Trust wasn’t so easily achieved as that. And while he was convinced that his deputy was competent, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he saw it. But it was best to distract himself until they opened. “Sanada-dono.” he said, affecting the higher voice of the k-pop idol. “Your victories at the great war this winter were admirable. Why, it was the talk of the town!” he said, with a gentle smile.

Sanada blinked a little, but affected a deeper voice as well, looking a little bemused as she replaced her _kabuto_. “It is was but my duty. The terror of Matsumoto is extinguished and the great town of Rikkai is safe. My honour is restored.”

“Oh, but your modesty is unnecessary! Why, I am so honoured to be bestowed the great gift of your patronage!” said Yukimura, widening his eyes and laughing. “Would you not allow me the honour of pouring you tea?”

The older girl nodded. “But, you see, it’s my pleasure. The greatest geisha in Gion deigns to serve a lowly samurai? Why, I should be kneeling at your feet.” said Sanada, her eyes unreadable. Yukimura just smirked, with amusement. Was it honestly easier for Sanada to flirt with him when she was pretending to be a samurai? That was somewhat pathetic and adorable at the same time. 

“Oh, enough modesty!” said Yukimura, with a chuckle, as he lifted a teapot from the closest table to them and poured a cup, remembering to draw his sleeve up a little like the geisha of the old teahouses had. “Have you heard about the conflict between the Seigaku and Hyotei daimyo?” he asked conversationally, feeling a little stupid to be turning idle gossip into some epic historic event. 

Her eyes were drawn to the bare skin exposed, which made Yukimura internally amused. It seemed some things never changed between the past and the present. “The conflict is nothing new, Seiko.” she said, quietly. “They have always quarrelled, quietly and not.” 

Yukimura just smirked. “Have I managed to hear something new that the great Sanada-dono hasn’t? The teahouses have been buzzing with conversation about how the Atobe-dono has offered a great insult to Tezuka-dono. Something about underestimating the younger generation. Quite a buzz it caused.”

Yukimura was vaguely aware of other ‘geisha’ finally entering the room and he knew that they would probably be in business soon, if that was the case. He wouldn’t be able to dally with Sanada for much longer. Sanada took a drink from the tea and her eyes focused on him. “It is quite rude to start a story and not finish it. Keeping people waiting is a cruel occupation.”

“But you see Sanada-dono, the suspense is the best part of the tale, I find. No story is quite as interesting, unless you have to wait for it. How is your tea?” asked Yukimura, with a light smirk. 

“Quite well, thank you.” said Sanada sipping again. “But you’ll find, Seiko, I’m a very impatient man.”

“I suppose you are.” said Yukimura, with a slight laugh. “But I’m not easily intimidated either, Sanada-dono and stories require time to be told to their full extent.” She rose and bowed. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have other guests to visit.”

There were actual people in the room, so this wasn’t too much of a lie. But it was partially just to see Sanada’s face to Yukimura just getting up and leaving. “Do you believe her nerve?” thundered Sanada and all of the guests there and his classmates laughed. 

“Just wait~ It makes everything better, Sanada-dono.” she said, with a wink and the other guests laughed again and went to go sit with Sanada. Yukimura turned around to greet some other guests and make them laugh as well. 

The rest of the day passed in greeting and tea-drinking and cracking witty jokes at the expense of the samurai and occasional breaks to eat some half-solid food and reapply make-up. It had been a very fun day, but at five-thirty pm, when the festival finally ended, Yukimura was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to wipe off all the make-up and just go home and sleep. 

Instead, he stood up at the front of the auditorium, as was his job as the head of the Beautification Committee. “Thank you everybody, for all of your hard work!” he shouted and everyone cheered. 

“The festival was a great success, and it’s all down to you and our teachers and of course, our lovely guests.” More cheering and Yukimura paused again. “Okay, clean-up and money counting is all day tomorrow. If you’re late, you will be drawn and quartered like we learnt that the Medieval English people did.” A small ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. “Today, you can all just go home, _with your costumes_. Please don’t forget them here, or I will sell them on the internet.” Another small wave of laughter, but Yukimura didn’t smile along. This time, he wasn’t kidding. 

“But, we do have a small bit of cleaning up to do today, and that’s to get rid of our extra perishables. Food and drinks need to be taken home. I don’t care how long it takes, no one is going home until all the food has been claimed by somebody.” said Yukimura, sternly. “If you sneak out before then, I will fire and aim tennis balls at you, expensive kimono trapping me or not.” Another longer wave of laughter happened and he smiled a little. Even the senpai-tachi seemed pretty ready to accept his authority, which did surprise him a little, though pleasantly. 

“Okay, that’s all. Claim food now, be here tomorrow by ten and sleep well everyone! Tomorrow’s another long day!” he said, as he gracefully floated down the stage (the kimono didn’t allow him to hop off like he usually would have). 

The students were starting to scatter and the leaders of the food tables were calling over people, much to his relief. Bunta seemed to be eager to claim some remaining food and Yukimura chuckled, as he leant back against the stage. Renji drifted over. “You’re going to be here until the end?” he asked, calmly.

“It’s my job as head of the beautification committee. Besides, all the food hasn’t been claimed yet and kaa-san isn’t expecting me back home until eleven, so I’m all sorted.” Yukimura explained, as he adjusted the sleeves of the furisode. 

“How responsible of you. I would offer to wait with you...but I wanted to show Sadaharu this, without any warning.” said Renji, looking entirely too amused. 

Yukimura laughed. “Have fun~” he said, with a grin. Someone was getting laid tonight. 

“You too.” said Renji, with a vague wave as he drifted away towards the food section. Probably to pick up his tea. 

He straightened up and went to get some food himself. Maybe some of the mochi that 1-C had prepared. They’d looked really tasty when the main three in charge had brought samples to the Beautification Committee. He spotted Sanada lurking on the edge, fiddling with her own makeup. He took a small detour. “I never finished telling you that story, did I?” asked Yukimura.

“No.” said Sanada, her normal voice back in place. “But somehow, I don’t want to hear the ending. I was never much of a gossiper.” 

Yukimura smiled. “Admirable of you, especially with your curiosity piqued.”

“That was an act. A samurai would be curious, because it was his duty to know everything to do with his rivals, so he could advise his daimyo on how to act. And grandfather says most of them were incurable gossips as well.” she said, with a slight smile. “I really don’t care what Atobe and Tezuka are quarrelling over now. It’s their business, and unless their fight is going to affect our tennis or our lives, I don’t care.”

Yukimura laughed. “I know. I was just joking. Have you picked up any food, yet?” he asked, with a mock-stern glare.

“I grabbed some yakitori for my parents.” said Sanada, with a wider smile. “I don’t want to be drawn and quartered, after all.”

“Did you see of there was any of that lovely mochi left over?” asked Yukimura, inquisitively, as he looped his arm in with hers.

“No, I did not see it. I think it’s all been finished. Probably by Kirihara.” said Sanada with a soft laugh as she leant into him slightly, obviously feeling a little bolder since nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. 

Yukimura sighed, and he really, really, longed to be able to play with his hair. “What a shame. I was hoping to try some. I’ll just have to find something else then and drop some subtle hints that I’d be very grateful if they made those for us.” 

“And string along their hearts in the process.” said Sanada, sternly. “Don’t give them false hope.”

“They’re smitten already, what difference does it make?” asked Yukimura, casually. He knew that he had no shortage of admirers. “Besides, the only woman in my life is you. And my sister, but that’s different.”

Sanada’s gaze was still a little annoyed. “I should hope that it was different.” 

Yukimura grinned mischievously. “Why? You aren’t jealous, are you?”

“Not of your sister.” said Sanada carefully. 

Yukimura lost the wide smile. So she was jealous of other girls. He’d have to prove to her that she had nothing to worry about. He unlooped his arm from hers. “I’m going to check that the food is gone so I can send everybody home. Will you stay back and wait for me?”

Sanada nodded. “Of course, Seiichi-kun.” 

“Meet me by the girls changing rooms.” said Yukimura, as he drifted towards the food stalls. To his relief, all of it, except for a few brownies had been claimed and he quickly tucked those under his arm. “Okay everybody! You can all leave now! Spread the word! Sleep well! No late-night anything!”

There were shouts of ‘yes sir’ and ‘slavedriver’ echoed around the room. Yukimura just unfolded his fan and whapped the nearest naysayer around the head with it. “Oh, pardon me!” he said, with a girlish giggle. 

People scattered off as lot more quickly, after that. He waited about fifteen minutes there, directing traffic, until it seemed like the large noise of around three-thousand students had finally faded into the distance. He started to drift back to the girl’s changing room, walking a little more gingerly as he went, stopping to make a quick detour at the boy’s changing rooms to grab his bag with his normal clothes in it. He really pitied proper geisha. His feet ached like nothing else. The wooden geta _hurt_ and he really couldn’t imagine wearing these everyday.

Sanada was leant against the wall of the girl’s changing room, being a little less relaxed thanks to the old, old armour she wore. She looked up as Yukimura clacked down the corridor and smiled at him.

Yukimura smiled back, a little coyly. “Anybody in there?” he asked. 

Sanada shook her head. “They all went home to get changed. They wanted showers and hot water.” 

Yukimura nodded, understandingly. The hot water in the Rikkai showers were so sporadic, it was like a lottery after tennis practise when they all came in to change. “Well then, we’d better help you out of your armour. Looks like a two-person job.” 

Sanada’s face went bright red and Yukimura chuckled. “No one will see us, they’re all at home and the janitors aren’t coming in today. And besides, I don’t want to damage the armour when I push you up against the wall and kiss you senseless.” he said, his voice dropping to be a little quieter and deeper. 

Sanada flushed a little more, making her look remarkably like a tomato, but she nodded as she followed Yukimura into the classroom. “Grandfather would kill me if they got damaged after he trusted me.”

Yukimura walked behind her and unhooked the back armour plates first. “Is there a special order we need to take them off in?”

“No, but they need to be stacked in the box in the proper order or they won’t fit.” answered Sanada, looking a little more relaxed as they moved more into a realm where she knew what she was doing. “Lay them out along the tables and we can sort them out afterwards.”

Yukimura nodded and carefully moved around her body, carefully unattaching the plates of armour from the links underneath, letting his fingers linger a little against the fabric, just to see Sanada’s face as she watched his progress. He could see just how distracted from her actual task of pulling off the arm armour, she really was. That was all Yukimura needed. 

Once the last piece of armour came off, Yukimura smiled. “Arms up, I need to pull off the links.”

Sanada shook her head. “I can do that part myself. It’s a little tricky.”

“Because it’s a two person job.” retorted Yukimura, before he tossed her a stern look.

She rolled her eyes, but obeyed and Yukimura shimmied it off and placed it aside, carefully. There. Now, to deal with her thigh guards and the various leather armour parts. Those were a little easier to undo, seeing as it was partially cloth, which was more pliable and less likely to break. 

He laid those aside as well, but was a little more haphazard about them. Now she was only dressed in her thick hakama and shitagi. Yukimura was about to start unwinding those as well, but Sanada just turned around instead of staying still. “Here, I’ll help with yours, so you don’t stain the silk with your makeup.”

Yukimura nodded. That was probably for the best. His already tentative relationship with his almost-always-working mother would be ruined further, if he damaged her expensive kimono. It wasn’t like she could wear it anymore, now that she was married, but he knew that she wanted to pass it onto his little sister. 

Sanada’s callused fingers slowly undid the obi, which allowed Yukimura to breathe a little easier. Then, came the elaborate outer furisode, which was neatly folded and placed on a separate table. Then the inner layer, which was just as exquisite, but not made from the same material. Then the neat white crisp layer, still opaque. And finally, as Sanada peeled that away and folded it, Yukimura was clad in just the sheer kimono slip, which didn’t really cover the fact that he was only really wearing shorts underneath. 

Yukimura smirked as she turned a little red. “Ah, I thought you had another layer...” she said, with a blush.

“Fake collars.” said Yukimura, easily. “Have you got any make-up remover wipes?” The white had faded slightly throughout the day, but it was still prominent all over his hands and face and Yukimura was pretty sure that it would give the washing machine hell. 

Sanada nodded and reached into her small bag and came back out with some. “Let me help you.” she said, as she dabbed at his arms with the wipes. Yukimura attacked his face and his lips, feeling relieved to gain the full motion of his facial expressions. No wonder geisha were so renowned for their poker-faces; it was because they couldn’t actually move their face!

She was still blushing as she took the wipes to his face where he had missed spots. Her touches were a lot more gentle and hesitant, but they seemed a lot more effective at removing the makeup than Yukimura’s motions had been.

Yukimura carefully dabbed away at her own make-up, which was a lot more subtle. When they were finally done, Yukimura smirked at her. “There. Now you’re Chihiro again, instead of Sanada-dono.”

Sanada nodded. “Seiko the infuriating geisha is gone, leaving me with Seiichi, the infuriating tennis captain.” she said, with a slight smirk. 

“Ah, you love me anyway.” Yukimura said, as one of his hands went up to her face, and the other worked away at the thick shitagi. She had to be wearing another layer underneath, since the material was still very expensive. 

Her eyes seemed to be fixed upon Yukimura’s face drawing closer to her, and so didn’t noticed what he was doing with her shirt, until Yukimura had finished undoing the knot and the front of the shirt opened up. “Ah!” she gasped, as Yukimura caught a glimpse of a thin vest underneath before she pulled the shitagi back, her face a bright red.

“Seiichi-kun...” she said, looking uncomfortable. 

“I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” said Yukimura, a little reluctantly, as he tied it back slowly. He wanted her trust and he wouldn’t do anything to damage that, even if he really wanted to. She watched his fingers leave her skin, then sighed. 

“Not past my vest and shorts.” she said, firmly, as she undid her shitagi and pulled it off. 

“Of course not.” said Yukimura, with a smile, as he helped her loosen the hakama, until they came off. Once they were, he pressed her back against the wall and kissed her soundly, tangling his fingers in the strand of hair that were escaping the tight bun.

While not releasing the kiss, Yukimura pulled out the hairnet and pins in one fell swoop, letting Sanada’s hair fall entirely. She moaned slightly against his lips, and tightened her own arms around his hips, her fingers splaying across the small of his back. He could feel all of her movements through the thin slip, and it was perhaps the most intimate they’d yet gotten. 

He broke their kiss and pressed feather kisses to the side of her neck. She arched her neck back, allowing him better access, her breath coming raggedly as he did so. When he lightly toyed at the skin near her collarbone with his teeth, she hissed his name through her teeth, honourifics forgotten in that moment. 

He lapped his skin along the tendon that connected her neck and shoulder and trailed kisses down. But she got impatient and pulled him into a stronger kiss on the lips, wrapping her legs around him to make him collapse onto her. 

Yukimura gripped her arms to stay upright and continued to exchange deep kisses with her, their tongues meeting without any shyness. He wondered what would happen if someone had come in during that moment, but well, that would never happen, since he’d assured it with his dismissal. 

As promised, he didn’t remove any more of her layers, but his fingers strayed from her arms to her breasts, lightly pressing and swirling circles on the thin, black vest and relishing her reactions against him, like her breathing rate increasing and the soft moans into his mouth. Her arms moved lower in response, to rest just below his hips, tracing soft circles. 

His skin felt electrified. Every slight touch she gave him felt so much more potent and he was starting to feel somewhat aroused. At that thought, he pulled back. She wasn’t ready for what was next. Even he wasn’t ready. When he’d dated other girls, he’d never come beyond this point, ever. They’d never meant anything to him, except as experimental devices or trophies. 

Sanada looked somewhat surprised but accepted his withdrawal with ease, sliding down the wall, looking a little tired. “It’s a good thing we got off the armour. Or you’d have bruises now.” she said, her voice a little more ragged. 

“Or the armour would have broken.” said Yukimura, as he leant back against a table to let his knees regain their feeling. His voice was much hoarser as well. 

“No, I’m sure that you’d have been worse for the wear. These plates did once see battle, you know. And survived it.” she said, with a wry grin. “Child of God or not, I think your skin is not so hard as Tokugawa steel.” 

“Over four-hundred years ago. The metal would have gotten weaker, from rust and slight cracks.” said Yukimura dismissively, but with a slight smile. “You’ve gotten better at kissing.”

“When you kiss me so frequently, of course I’ll improve. Practise does make perfect.” she retorted and Yukimura laughed. 

“Is that another one to add to your schedule? Two hours tennis, half an hour kissing, another three hours kendo?” he said, imitating her voice when she was concentrating. 

Sanada laughed, goodnaturedly. “I wish I could schedule it that easily. Unfortunately, I have to plan around you and you’re far too fickle and unorganized.” she said, with a hesitant smile. Oh, that was a barb, indeed.

“Ah tough! I’ll never be predictable. So you’ll have to make your schedules flexible for me, Sanada Chihiro.” said Yukimura, jabbing a finger in her direction. She growled at his finger and he laughed lightly. It was comfortable with Sanada. Easy. He loved that so much. It became almost too easy to depend on her being there to laugh with. 

He slid off the table. “I’d better walk you home.” he said. “And we should get changed.”

“Hn.” she agreed, as she stood up hesitantly. 

Once they finished dressing in normal, streetwear, Yukimura went to her side and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek as they started to sort out the armour. She smiled softly and returned it to his other cheek. An improvement. A month ago, she would have blushed. She’d figure out just how smitten he was with her, soon. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yukimura frowned as he glanced down at his racket, on his way back to his bag. Playing Yagyuu hadn’t been too difficult. But for a girl, her laser beam shot had been surprisingly strong, and the shot had broken three strings on his favourite racket. “How frustrating.” he murmured, as he exchanged his racket for a new one, so he could finish the exercise-drills. 

Sanada, who was grabbing a drink of water glanced down at Yukimura’s racket and her eyes flickered back up to Yukimura’s. “Yagyuu?” she asked, nonchalantly.

“This is a common occurrence?” asked Yukimura, as he pulled out another racket and tested those strings. Not as tight as his preferred racket, but it would do. 

Sanada frowned. “Somewhat. Ever since Yagyuu perfected her shot, she’s been very good at destroying rackets. But she’s been especially destructive since her mixed doubles experiences with Niou.” Her eyebrows rose for a slight moment as she grimaced, clearly showing her opinion of Niou.

Yukimura just laughed, he enjoyed Niou’s company and he knew that Niou didn’t induce anything that wasn’t already there. “They’re winning more efficiently with each other than with their usual doubles partners. I’d count it as a success. A few racket strings are worth it.”

With a tug at her hat, Sanada just shrugged and placed her waterbottle down as she started to job down back towards the rest of their club. “But they don’t have mixed tournaments for schools.”

Yukimura followed her. “They’re still Rikkai’s doubles pair when they compete in individual tournaments. You don’t stop school affiliations until you reach the pro circuit.” he said, as he adjusted his headband. “They’ll still strike fear into the hearts of their opponents and their victory will still be seen as a Rikkai victory. That’s how it works.”

There was a definitely skeptical look on Sanada’s face, but she just picked up her racket from Yanagi as they got back to exercises, without protesting. 

When practise finished and they all started heading back to their locker rooms, Yukimura frowned at his racket bag again. He would need to replace the strings of his racket, but he didn’t have his debit-card with him today and he didn’t have enough cash. Maybe he’d get it replaced over the weekend or something. Still, that would mean he would be playing with his non-professional racket for the rest of the week, a prospect that didn’t please Yukimura very much. 

Renji stopped him on their way in to the locker rooms. “I can lend you three-thousand yen to fix your racket strings.” he said, easily and Yukimura mused that really, his best friend was very creepy when he did that. 

“Can you really? I can pay you back tomorrow, if that’s okay.” said Yukimura, with a slight raise of his eyebrows, three-thousand yen was a significant amount of money, even between them.

Yanagi just smiled. “The stringer close to Chigasaki Park is very fast and uses stronger strings. It’s a bit of walk, but it’s worth the extra thousand yen.” he advised, as he straightened his hair. “Chihiro-chan knows the way.” he advised, easily. 

Of course she did. “Honestly Renji, we’re already together, you don’t have to act like a matchmaker, anymore.” said Yukimura, with an amused grin, as he loped into the rooms, past the smell of teenage boys and too much cologne, towards his locker, to get changed. 

Renji just smiled cryptically, and Yukimura bit back a slight growl. He both hated it and loved it when his friend got all cryptic like this. When he wanted and nasty mind-game, dealing with Renji was a lot easier. But there were some days where his taciturn nature could be immensely frustrating. 

Yukimura just pressed his lips together and started to change his clothes, his movements a lot sharper than their usual grace. “Well, you haven’t exactly been on many dates since you two started dating.” said Renji, finally, his gaze a mix between concerned and amused. 

With a light snort, Yukimura paused in the act of tying his tie. “It’s called school, Renji. There hasn’t been much time for anything else. Besides, it’s a racket-stringing, how does that facilitate a date?”

“It’s a fairly lengthy walk and it will take Nakawara-san at least twenty minutes to string the racket, you’ll have some time alone.” murmured Renji, his voice much quieter, to hide his voice from the others. “Also, I still manage to go see Sadaharu every week.”

While the prospect of some alone-time with Sanada to just talk was nice, Yukimura didn’t think it counted as a date. “Inui-kun attends another school. Of course you have to make time to see him. Chihiro and I see each other everyday and we eat lunch together. That’s enough.” said Yukimura, firmly, as he rolled up the sleeves of his jacket and ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. He’d need to wash it that evening, because he didn’t feel like braving the cold-hot lottery of the showers, today. 

“Is it?” asked Renji, placidly, as he grabbed his wallet and handed Yukimura the extra money. 

Yukimura frowned, reached up and flicked Renji’s cheek with force. “Stop being a busybody, Renji.” he said, coolly. “I know how to plan my own dates. It’s just different for us than it is for you and Inui-kun.” Yukimura’s face softened a little at Renji’s slightly guilty look and he took the money. “But thanks for caring.”

He shouldered his bag and turned to walk out of the locker room. Sanada was in deep conversation with one of her doubles pairs outside, and Yukimura pretended to adjust his shoelaces as they finished their conversation. Once they were done, Yukimura strolled over, nodding in greeting. “Are you busy this evening?” asked Yukimura, quietly. 

Sanada’s brow furrowed as she thought and Yukimura honestly thought it was one of her prettiest looks. “I should be, I don’t have too much homework and it;s not my teaching day at the dojo. Any reason?”

Yukimura smiled, pleasantly. “Great. Renji said you knew the way to a good racket-stringer close to Chigasaki?” 

Sanada frowned but nodded. “It’s some way by walking. Do you have a bus pass?” she asked, as they started to walk towards Rikkai’s gates. 

With a regretful look, Yukimura shook his head. He’d left practically all of his cards at home. Honestly, that had been a stupid decision. “We can walk.” Yukimura said, firmly, as he grasped her hand. “We’re not that slow or tired.”

Sanada, surprisingly, looked a little reluctant, but she did nod her agreement, as they fell into a comfortable silence on their walk. The sun was still covered by clouds and it was a little chilly, but at least Rikkai’s uniform provided for that, with the thick fabric and the comfortable scarf. Yukimura rolled down his sleeves as the inner heat from tennis slowly started to fade away, and walked a little closer to Sanada. 

“Did you get what sensei was saying about the integral multiplication yesterday?” asked Sanada, finally breaking the silence and Yukimura glanced up quizzically. 

“A little.” said Yukimura. “I can do it, but I’m not a hundred percent on why it works the way it does. I just know that it works, not why. You’d have to ask Niou or Renji for that.”

Sanada pulled a face. “I asked Tezuka, even he doesn’t know, because Seigaku aren’t there yet.”

“It’s because their entrance exams are later than ours, right?” asked Yukimura, curiously. 

“Yes, by a week.” agreed Sanada. “They have a little less holiday, but they had a longer winter break.”

Yukimura just nodded, in acceptance. “Most of the other private schools line up with Seigaku. I remember Atobe was complaining about it.” he said, easily.

“Well, we are a university-affiliated school.” dismissed Sanada, her voice a little pinched, as they walked past some men who were staring at them. “Of course we’re going to be a little different.”

Yukimura’s gaze flickered up to how Sanada had tensed-up. Her shoulders were a rigid line and her grip on Yukimura’s hand had tightened significantly. Her stride had also become a little faster, and while Yukimura could keep up, it was definitely a change to how they usually walked together. Her eyes were straight ahead, inorganically and Yukimura felt rather concerned. 

“Chihiro...” he murmured, as he squeezed her hand. 

“It’s not a great area around here.” said Sanada, tightly. “I just don’t like walking around here.”

“Oi, why don’t you smile a bit? You’d be my type if you did that, with those whoppers of yours!” yelled a worker from the opposite pavement and Yukimura glared murder at him. 

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” shouted Sanada back, not slowing in her stride, pulling Yukimura with her, despite Yukimura definitely wanting to say something far sharper. 

“Don’t, don’t.” said Sanada, quietly meeting Yukimura’s angry gaze as she pulled him away. “Don’t get too involved, they have building tools, they’ll probably get violent. You’re fixing your tennis racket, not breaking it more. Also, keep an eye out for if they follow us.”

“...you’re expecting them to follow us?” asked Yukimura, quite unnerved. “Is this a common thing?”

Sanada pulled a face, looking hesitant to say anything. “Sort of. I get a lot of perverts, but no one’s followed me yet once I shout at them. But I’ve heard bad things from other girls...” 

How could she speak about people like that with such a casual dismissal? “It’s awful. Why do you say anything if they might follow you, then?” asked Yukimura, gaze coolly back to check to see if they were coming. Nothing. Good, he didn’t care what Sanada had said, he would break his racket with the force of his blows, if anyone tried to sneak up behind them. 

Her face hardened, suddenly. “I can get away with being strong and tough, because I look it and I have been doing martial arts since I could walk. I can shout at them and shame them for being perverts, and I can even fight back if they attack me without weapons. But most other girls haven’t got that luxury, they have to endure it. That’s why I shout back, for them as well.” she said, her grip becoming very tight. 

She noticed and apologized, letting go of his hand, with a slight apology than Yukimura waved off. He refused to shake out his hand, and gripped her hand himself, letting her crush it if she wanted to. “It’s stupid. I’ll probably get in trouble for it later. But, it feels good to see how surprised they look when I shout at them. They’re not used to normal girls saying stuff back.” she said, with such passion. 

They were quiet for a little bit, as they continued walking. “....how often does this happen?” asked Yukimura, his face displeased. Would his sister have to worry about this if she got older? 

“A lot. Usually when I’m alone or with some other girls in Tokyo or anywhere away from suburbs. It’s funny, but if they see you as a possession of another guy, they won’t say anything.” said Sanada, her voice cold. “I never get anything when I walk with Renji.” As Yukimura was about to speak, Sanada’s lips twisted. “He probably thought you were a girl.”

Yukimura hadn’t thought it was possible to get more furious at that man, but there it was. As they pushed forward into the racket shop, finally, Yukimura paused. “I’m sorry, you know. You shouldn’t have to go through this.”

Sanada looked puzzled. “Well, it’s not your fault. You don’t make girls uncomfortable on streets or follow them home.”

Of course he didn’t, that was tawdry and creepy. Girls came to him, not the other way around, besides, he already had the perfect one. “Well, it’s not my individual fault. But I’m a guy, right? So I should apologize for the disgusting ones.” said Yukimura as they walked into the shop.

Sanada smiled, a mixture of happiness, sadness and relief. It wasn’t like her smiles of pure joy that lit up his world. This was a different sort of pretty that Yukimura admired and never really wanted to let go of. 

This hadn’t been much of a date, really, Yukimura mused as he unzipped his racket from his bag to show to the lady at the shop-counter. It wouldn’t turn into much of a date either. Yukimura would have to do something better, soon, then. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sanada yawned discreetly as she walked into the shoe locker and went to exchange her outside shoes with her indoor shoes, and paused. Inside her shoe, was a small wrapped object. She frowned and reached in to remove it. A couple of other early birds paused to turn around. 

“What’s that, Sanada-chan?” one asked.

“Not sure,” said Sanada, as she tucked it into her pocket, much to the disappointment of their curiosity. 

Well, she knew the general gist of what it was, since this was the fifth present in five days. They’d been showing up in weird places everywhere. Inside her locker, under her desk, inside her homework, on top of her bedroom desk, and now in her shoe locker. Once Sanada was sure she was out of the sight of nosy passers-by, she pulled out the small present and unwrapped the tissue paper slowly. 

She smiled. It was a really gorgeous dragon hair clip. She clipped back her fringe immediately, using the pin and smiled a little. All of the presents had been utterly gorgeous, but also practical. A small watch-necklace. A pot of lipgloss with sunscreen in the formula. A pair of nice sunglasses. Lots of pretty stickers with Sanada’s name, to stick on things that were hers. 

And despite the giver not leaving any cards or identification, Sanada knew it was Yukimura. Who else knew her heart so well? It was her entire aesthetic summed up in those gifts. 

Okay, Renji knew her heart pretty well, too. But he had no reason to send her the gifts. He wasn’t dating her or needed to impress her in some way. Unless she was mistaken about which gender he was attracted to. 

Speaking of Renji though... “Hi.” she greeted, as the taller boy caught up to her. 

“Hello, Chihiro-chan.” he said, with a smile. “That’s a lovely hairpin. Did your mother buy it for you?”

Sanada just smiled at how Renji knew that she would never have bought something like this for herself. Mostly, because she only got interested in shopping when it came to sports equipment and antiques. “Actually, no.” she said, but before she could explain, Renji saw the wrapping paper. 

“Ahh, your secret admirer.” he said, as he folded his arms. 

Sanada blinked. She hadn’t said that to anyone, and only the people who’d seen the first and second present arrive would have know– “You and Yagyuu’s gossip network.” she said, with a roll of her eyes. 

Renji just smiled. “Information is power.”

Sanada rolled her eyes. Maybe it was, but she just couldn’t bring herself to talk about people behind their backs like that. If she was going to say something aloud about a person, she would say it to their face, or not say it at all. “Well, it’s hardly a secret admirer, when I know exactly who is sending me these presents.” she said, as she started walking to the Morality Council meeting. Thanks to their similar heights, they fell into step easily. 

“Seiichi.” they said in unison and they exchanged a slight smile. 

“He’s not exactly great at subtle.” said Sanada, pursing her lips together to hide the grin threatening to compromise her mask of impassiveness. “Everything he’s done has been really obvious.”

Renji pressed a hand to his cheek and twitched his eyebrows at Sanada. Sanada sighed, goodnaturedly. Renji was all about making you figure out the answer yourself. He disliked just giving away the answer. “And I know why. It’s because he’s so afraid that I’ll be hurt by him or that he’ll be hurt by me, because I’ll miss the meaning of what he’s aiming towards, if he’s too subtle.”

Renji just nodded and Sanada frowned. “I just want to thank him though, Renji. These are so lovely and wonderful. But everytime I try to corner him, he vanishes or somehow manages to escape me.” At Renji’s look, she smiled sheepishly as they took seats at the council table. She _had_ done the same when she’d been angry with Yukimura. “Not like that’s very difficult to do. But he’s not angry with me if he’s leaving me presents every day.” 

Renji shrugged. “Maybe he wants the anticipation to build?”

“What for?” asked Sanada, feeling a little confused. Renji tossed her a stern look and Sanada shrugged. “What? The only thing I can think about is Valentine’s Day and I give him a present then! Not the other way around.”

“It’s a reminder in a way.” said Renji, cryptically. 

Sanada rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t honestly think I’m going to forget to give him a present then?” She wasn’t the most romantically aware of anything, but neither was she dense. They were serious and Sanada was definitely going to try and get him something worthwhile.

“Maybe it’s something more?” asked Renji, as he pulled out his files and folders. 

Sanada removed the morality council folder from her backpack and sighed as she took a seat at the table. “I just don’t get it. What does he mean to achieve by it? How do I get him to talk to me again; sing the fourteen days of Valentines? The first day of Valentines, my true love sent to me, a necklace and a watch, all-in-one?” she demanded, with a large frown. 

Renji laughed, covering his face with both hands. Sanada smiled a little, it was good to see him laugh. “Seiichi doesn’t take english, he wouldn’t understand that.” Renji said, catching his breath.

Sanada just tucked a spare strand of hair behind her ear, looking faintly amused. “Hence why I told you and not Seiichi. I don’t think either of us would appreciate it if I started belting out into a song he wouldn’t understand in the middle of Lunch.”

Renji leant back in his chair, looking like he was deep in thought, as the other members started trailing in. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but on Valentines, you should dress up nicely. He wants to take you somewhere nice.”

Sanada nodded seriously. She had been planning on making chocolate for Yukimura anyway and finishing the patterns on that personalized racket cover for him, but her determination to make them outstanding had just increased. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Day after day, Yukimura avoided her and the presents started to rack up. Nobosuke had noticed and had been teasing her about her secret admirer, which she’d put up with relative aplomb. She’d waited to pulverise him until they were in the dojo, instead of smashing him against the walls of the dining room with her backhand. Mother had appreciated that. The paper walls of their normal house would have been ruined by that.

But the gifts only got sweeter and more useful. With every gift, Sanada felt a little warmer inside. And a little more determined to make her gift to him on the fourteenth to be utterly spectacular.

And the fourteenth rolled around, and as Sanada walked into their homeroom after hunching up to do Morality Council paperwork in the library, she saw Yukimura there, for once. He was lounging at his table next to Renji, absently rolling an envelope between his paint-stained fingers. 

Sanada hesitantly took a seat next to him and he met her gaze. “Chihiro.” he said, with a smile. “Happy Valentines.”

“You too, Seiichi.” she said, dropping the honourific. She stuck a hand into her backpack to search for the first present. She pulled out the lacquered bento-box and handed it to him. In the end, she’d known that just hand-made chocolates weren’t good enough. She’d put a lot of effort into the bento. 

Usually, her bento boxes were just the food put together neatly. No pretty cutouts or shapes like the rest of her classmates, which was why Sanada usually bought lunch at the school canteen, to not embarrass herself. But she’d gotten up even earlier than usual to make the bento just right for Yukimura and had thrown the leftovers together haphazardly to make her own lunch.

Yukimura opened it and the sunny smile he gave her upon seeing the food was worth the cursing in the dark kitchen at 4:30 in the morning. “This looks amazing.” he said, with a grin. “I almost don’t want to eat it, because I don’t want to ruin it.” 

Sanada just tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, accepting the praise with a nod. “The chocolates are in the bottom compartment.” Home-made, of course. Giri choco was the only chocolate you bought from stores. 

Yukimura nodded and flicked through to the third box and opened up to the many chocolates, lightly dusted with sugar and and filled with lemon-cream. Yukimura had once said that it was his favourite for its simplicity, back when they’d just been friends. “Have you tried one yet?” he asked, curiously.

Sanada shook her head. “I haven’t tried any of the finished chocolates. Yagyuu and I were only trying it in the middle stages. It should be fine, though.” It should have been, considering that had been the third batch they’d had to make of each of their respective chocolates. 

Yukimura smiled and popped a chocolate into his mouth. By the look on his face as he closed his eyes, he liked it. Sanada smiled in relief, that was quickly wiped away as Yukimura reached up to kiss her, and all that Sanada could taste was the chocolate. She flushed as he pulled away and wiped away at the side of her mouth, where a chocolate smudge was. 

“Thought about feeding you, but this was much nicer, don’t you think?” he asked, before popping another chocolate into his mouth.

Sanada flushed a little, but nodded. Yukimura’s kisses were always wonderful. Partially because she was still a little in shock that he even liked her that way. Partially though, was because he was a _very_ good kisser. “I had something else.” she said, as she picked up the tennis racket-cover.

It was blue and green, with little embroidered tennis balls across it. One side read ‘Yukimura Seiichi’ in neat kanji and the other had the Rikkai logo. There was enough room to fit in two rackets and it had a long strap, so Yukimura could easily fit it over his school-bag.

Yukimura was quiet for a bit as he inspected it. “Thank you.” he said, finally, with a soft smile, that could have melted a glacier with the intensity in his eyes. He handed over the small envelope he’d been twirling in his hands. 

“Here.” he said, quietly. “It’s a restaurant name and location. The reservation’s in my name, if you arrive before I do. And then....there’s a kabuki performance in town, and I thought you might want to go.” Sanada smiled. He knew that she liked traditional theatre, but rarely got to watch it, because of Sasuke’s age. 

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to. I give you things on Valentines. And you’ve already given me so much.” said Sanada, as she took the envelope and looked at the address. Oh, Renji had been right to tell her to buy a dress. The place was known for it’s expensive food and formal clothing. 

“Monetary things. What are they really worth? These gifts you gave me are so much more powerful.” said Yukimura, as he tucked the bento box into his bag. “This is the least I can do. Though, I’d plan to not be going home until tomorrow morning..” 

Sanada blinked. Oh, they were going to be out that late? She was a little worried, but at least it was a Friday. “Okay.” she said, as she tucked them into her blazer’s pocket. Then, she pulled out the hairpin he’d given her and attached it back in her hair, as she got up and went back to her seat. She didn’t miss the smirk that Yukimura shot her. 

xxxxxxxxx

The evening couldn’t have come faster. She’d been a little impatient all day, especially as she’d seen all the girls hand Yukimura flowers and chocolate and plushies. Still, the restaurant address burned in her pocket, along with the other presents he’d given her, and gave her solace. She wasn’t insecure anymore. Amazed at her luck, perhaps. But not insecure. 

Once she’d gone home, she hadn’t focused on her homework like her usual Friday night routine, but had become incredibly image-conscious, by doing her hair and going through the stupid-girly things involved with wearing a dress, like leg-shaving and the several hours spent in front of the mirror with make-up. And then the actual process of making sure her dress didn’t look awful.

In general, Sanada’s curvy, muscular figure didn’t exactly make her a good fit for western dresses. Still, after asking one of her classmates to help her buy a nice dress and getting half of the popular girls wanting to help ‘make Sanada-chan pretty’, they had found something nice that had been in her price-range. 

After nearly three hours of agonising about how she wasn’t much like a girl, if she was having this much trouble trying to be formal in a western-way; Sanada finally finished her preparations and tried to sneak out of the house as discreetly as she could. She’d told her mother that she’d be sleeping over at Yagyuu’s house and had asked Yagyuu to lie for her as well, before she’d gotten dressed-up and as she attempted to walk out of the door, she was thwarted by the worst possible person to catch her leaving.

“Sanada-oba-chan’s wearing a _dress_!” exclaimed Sasuke and Sanada groaned as she slipped on her shoes with shaking hands. That had been loud and even if she managed to escape, she would face the consequences in the morning....

“Chihiro?” asked her mother, peeking her head out of the kitchen, and Nobosuke looked at at her. Nobosuke’s mouth dropped and Sanada wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind her, as she started running. And promptly tripped over, as her dress constricted her from being able to reach her maximum running stride. 

“Chihiro?” asked her mother’s voice again from the front door, and Sanada scrambled up, ignoring the small amount of blood coming from her knee, as she started power-walking away from her house instead. She was definitely getting at least a week of sweeping the dojo alone, if not being grounded once she returned home. 

As soon as she deemed it safe enough to walk normally, Sanada cursed at the blood dripping down from her knee. That had not gone according to plan, and she didn’t have her usual first-aid kit, because she hadn’t brought her tennis bag with her. Just the tickets and some toiletries for the morning at Yukimura’s house. As she took a seat down on the bus to the restaurant, she pulled the sleeves of her tennis jacket down and dabbed at the cut, wincing a little. 

“How did you get that?” asked the older woman who’d taken a seat next to her. 

“I tripped.” said Sanada, blushing a little. She wanted to tug down on her hat, but she’d not worn it, because it wasn’t what you were supposed to wear to formal dates. 

“On a hurry to get to your date?” asked the woman, as she rummaged in her handbag. At Sanada’s surprised look, the woman laughed. “Why else would a pretty young girl like you be in a hurry on Valentine’s Day, hmm?”

Sanada nodded just a little, and smiled in gratitude, as a band-aid was produced from the depths of the woman’s handbag. She pasted the band-aid over her leg and attempted to dab at it with her sleeve again. The older woman slapped her arm and handed her a tissue to mop it up. Sanada nodded in gratitude, resisting the urge to apologize to the old woman. Blood was difficult to get out of clothes and this was her school jacket. 

Sanada’s heart was skipping as she got off at her station, bowing in gratitude to the kind stranger, as she walked the last distance to the restaurant. She hadn’t worn heels, simply because she didn’t own any, which made her feel a little more secure, but still. The dress made her feel uncomfortable and not much like herself. Still, she was wearing Yukimura’s belt and the hair-pin and she had that ticket in her jacket pocket, and that made things a little better. 

And upon seeing a flash of blue hair inside the restaurant window, Sanada smiled. Despite the snooty look that the restaurant employee gave her while looking at her scratched-up knee and the tennis jacket, they let her in and as she took a seat across from Yukimura, who looked utterly resplendent in his tuxedo, she could only smile at him. 

“You look wonderful.” said Yukimura, smiling as she removed her tennis jacket. 

“Thanks for arranging this.” said Sanada, feeling her anxieties about not being good enough melt away in the face of his reassuring smile. 

“My pleasure.” said Yukimura, his gaze lingering on all of her. Sanada didn’t feel as self-conscious, partially because she was staring, as well. He looked very natural and casual in a suit, in a way that drew attention. He was very western, she mused. He fit into the Western world with the same ease that Sanada fit into the traditional japanese world. 

“What do I order?” asked Sanada, finally, dragging her eyes away from Yukimura with difficulty.

Yukimura just smiled and lifted up the menu. “I’d recommend beef bourguignon, for your tastes.” Sanada nodded gratefully. That was something she could actually recognise. She’d heard some strange things about french food. 

Yukimura called the waiter over, ordered and then sat back. “Originally, my plan was to just go to the theatre show.” he admitted. “But then this monday I got a letter.”

Sanada tilted her head to the side. Yukimura pulled a well-folded letter out of his pocket and opened it. “To Yukimura Seiichi, Some formal crap about their institution and it’s prestige. It has come to our attention that your tennis ability is worth consideration. It is with this in mind, that we would like to send a scout to Japan to test your talent, if a tennis sponsorship is something that you are actively pursuing.”

Yukimura paused there to clear his throat, looking up. “It goes on for a bit about it’s facilities. But it’s better than U-17. It has personal trainers, a guaranteed place in qualifiers for all of the Grand Slams and the amount of money they’re willing to put into me, is so much greater than even the offer that Tezuka got.” he said, his voice a little hushed. 

Sanada smiled faintly. “That’s brilliant.” she said. And it really was. Free rides to the top like that weren’t just given to anybody. His reputation must have preceded him. Despite that, his face still looked hesitant. “But, there’s a catch, isn’t there?” asked Sanada, as she frowned. 

Yukimura nodded. “They want me to join up at the end of the school year. Which means that I won’t finish high school. Not the mention, the facility is in France. I’d be stationed there for the majority of the time that I’m not competing. It’s a long way from home.” he said, as he tucked the letter back away and twisted a small strand between his fingers. 

Sanada sighed. Of course it was that. “Have you asked them whether they can wait another year for you?” she asked, her voice stern. “Having a high school diploma is important.” Not to mention, Sanada would have a lot more time with Yukimura, before losing him to the busy world of France and tennis and practise. 

Yukimura shook his head. “I don’t think they would. There will be new talent next year...” he said, trailing off. 

Sanada frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s the point of ruling out an option without even investigating it? They left you contact details, right? Just email them.” Then she checked the clock. “Do it now. It’ll be ideal time in Europe, right?”

Yukimura blinked in surprise, before he pulled out his phone and started tapping, his eyes focused on the screen, playing with his lip, as he obviously attempted to put together a polite request in what Sanada assumed, was French. 

Sanada leant into her hand and just watched him. It was something that she didn’t really get to do, since school was for focusing on her classes and tennis and kendo were her places of zen. And their dates where neither tennis nor studying was involved were growing few and far between. 

“There. Done.” said Yukimura, as he tucked it away, and let his eyes meet hers again. They lingered and Sanada broke the gaze with a slight scoff. “While you were avoiding me for two weeks, I got that letter to the Kendo World Qualifiers that I’ve been expecting.” she said, smugly. 

Yukimura’s eyes widened and grinned. “I didn’t doubt it. When is it?”

Sanada sighed, and pulled a little at a loose strand of hair, escaping the bun. “There is the problem. It’s during the summer...starting on the first day of tennis nationals.” 

Yukimura grimaced. “World Finals take precedence, but that is a difficult situation. Especially if my sponsorship won’t let me wait another year...” he said, trailing off. “Renji would be captain in that situation and he’d be just fine at helping everybody achieve their potential, but he’s not quite as authoritative. Without one of us, the discipline at Nationals would be low.” 

Sanada scowled at the table. “Grandfather would be incredibly disappointed if I missed out on Worlds because of tennis, which I don’t even plan as a career.” But the unspoken thing between them was how disappointing it would be to miss out that final year with the teams and to miss out on Nationals.

“We’d better hope that they give me that extra year, then.” said Yukimura grimly, as their food arrived. Sanada exhaled in relief, slumping down in her chair a little, letting the red fabric bunch up around her thighs. The dish looked normal. She had been expecting a side of snails or something odd. 

Yukimura noticed and laughed, as they both unfolded their napkins and placed them in their laps. “Bon appetit!” he said,with a wry smile. Sanada just nodded and neatly started slicing the meat, pleased to not have to deal with strange dishes. “Honestly Chihiro, what were you expecting?” asked Yukimura, curiously. “An inedible lump of flesh? Nobody would like french food, if that was the case.”

“I’ve just heard strange things.” defended Sanada, as she pulled her eyebrows down. “And their seafood is awful, you have to admit that.” 

Yukimura tilted his head to the side, his blue-black hair brushing across the arch of his neck. “It isn’t awful.” he defended, but without much passion. 

A smile touched her lips and soon the two of them were smiling at each other the table, chatting about the things they’d missed out about each other over the two weeks. It wasn’t as romantic as perhaps other couples around them, but Sanada valued the friendship aspect of them as much as the kissing and the touches. Perhaps even more. 

And soon the food cleared away and Yukimura flashed his debit-card, without even looking worried about the large amount of yen he was forking out for just a meal. Sanada wasn’t poor by any standard of the word, but she was definitely a lot more careful with her money than Yukimura seemed to be, she mused, as she pulled the slightly blood-stained jacket back on. Then she remembered that the vast majority of Yukimura’s family actually worked as civilians. Army and Police salaries were low, after all. 

Yukimura looped his arm through hers and they strolled down the streets, towards the theatres. Yukimura pulled close to her, and she leaned into him as well. It was comfortable, and he probably need the body-heat anyway. She remembered the winter break and the multiple layers of clothing there. Wearing just two layers for the tuxedo must have been unbearable for Yukimura. Still, he wasn’t showing it. She could only feel the slight shivers against her shoulder. 

Yukimura handed over the tickets nonchalantly to the doorman and they walked in. Sanada felt more at home immediately, as they found their seats, with some good-natured bickering about heights and locations. There was something so magical about the old wood, the dim yellow lights and the anticipating empty stage. It filled her lungs with something just a little more filling than oxygen.

They were a little early, but she took solace in winding her hand in with Yukimura’s and feeling his thumb and fingers creep up her arm, teasingly. “You’re going to audition for this year’s school play, right?” asked Yukimura, not looking up from where he was lightly caressing her wrist and the bones there. 

“Probably not.” said Sanada, her breath hitching in her throat a bit, as he ran his thumb over a vein on the underside of her wrist. “Too many other obligations. Grandfather wants me to increase kendo practise times, even if he hasn’t said it outrightly.”

“That’s a shame, I remember a couple of years ago. You made a wonderful Chang-e, though i wasn’t really paying much attention.” said Yukimura, with a sigh. 

“Only thanks to Renji’s coachings. And that visit to China. Or I’d have been lost.” she said, stiffly. “Nothing against your script, of course, but I’m not familiar with Chinese mythology.” 

Yukimura smiled a little sadly. “I never went on that trip. But you visited an old museum with all of that information, right?” He looked somewhat wistful, but eager to hear what Sanada had to say. Right, she realized, with a stab. That was when he’d been hospitalized. 

“Yes, It was a beautiful country. But I don’t think the food was for me.” she admitted. “The Great Wall was the highlight for me. On top of that, looking out at the rugged countryside rolling away from you... it makes you feel like you’re on the top of the world.” 

Yukimura sighed a little, and shut his eyes, the caress on Sanada’s inner wrist only getting slower and more sensual. “It must have been amazing.” 

Sanada simultaneously stiffened and relaxed, thanks to Yukimura’s ministrations: something that she hadn’t thought was possible until now. “It was nice...but I prefer home.” she said, truthfully. 

Yukimura’s eyes opened, blinked a little, before smiling, genuinely. “You’re a charm.” he said, softly, which brought a slight smile to her own lips. She didn’t feel that she deserved that, but he seemed to genuinely believe it. “Do you know anything about the play tonight? It’s called Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy.”

Sanada smiled. It was a topic she felt a little more comfortable with, in general. Kabuki was always beautiful. “It’s a play about a famous scholar called Sugawara who was falsely accused of plotting against the emperor at the time. He was banished from Tokyo to Kyoto, and while there, he died. However, upon his death, a lot of bad omens happen in the capital and people start getting paranoid that it was his angry spirit. So they started worshipping him as the divine spirit of knowledge and therefore appeased.” 

Yukimura nodded. “Go ahead and just spoil the plot for me.” he said, with a teasing grin. But they both knew that he preferred to know the plot before going in. Yukimura appreciated the idea that a good story could surprise him again, despite him already knowing what was going to happen, and that the emotional value was more than just a shock value. And Sanada was blunt with her knowledge, so they worked out just fine in that aspect. 

“There are typically twelve scenes, but since that would take the better part of a day, there are just going to be the five most important scenes, and that will last the three hours.” she explained, as she leant back against the seat a little more, as Yukimura’s touch both electrified her and relaxed her. 

“Mmm.” he said, noncommittally as he ran his fingers over hand absently. “It sounds nice.” But Sanada had a feeling that he wasn’t really listening to the plot and was commenting more about her. “Did you paint your nails?” he asked, curiously. 

Sanada flushed. “Not by choice.” she said, without explaining any further, as the theatre lights dimmed further and the spot-lights focused down on the stage. Technically, the girls who had helped her buy the dress had also forced on the nail-polish, but she didn’t feel like telling Yukimura that. 

And soon, her attention was stolen by the bright lights of the stage and the actors and actresses on stage. Even Yukimura looked quite raptured when she occasionally snuck glances at him. They both loved the stage and this was a wonderful performance. 

Still, Sanada’s full attention wasn’t allowed to remain upon the actors and the plot and the little subtle facial expressions. Because whenever the plot got a little slower, Yukimura’s fingers would creep up her arm, and splay over her muscles and just caress them subtly. No one was able to tell in the darkness of the theatre, but every time this happened, Sanada flushed up to her ears and it took her around thirty seconds to place her focus back on the actors. 

His touches went straight to the pit of her stomach and made her feel just a little hot and flustered, in the good way. Still, she felt entirely out of her depth. There were only so much that reading those stupid girl magazines could do (especially when she’d given up reading them halfway through and had thrown them at the wall). She just squeezed his hand when she could and tried not to flush too much. 

And finally the performance ended. It was eleven-thirty at night and Sanada was glad that her parents knew to not expect her home until tomorrow morning. She would disturb everyone through their paper-thin walls if she arrived home now. 

She twirled her arm in with Yukimura again, as the weather seemed a lot colder now. There were fewer people around on their dates, though there were still more people around in the main city, than around her usually suburban area. Yukimura was definitely pressed close to her body in a more noticeable way as they walked through the city’s buildings, with one arm snaked around her back and the other pressed close to his front. She put one arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, not feeling shy about doing it, not after his advances in the theatre. 

Yukimura’s eyes were lidded as he did so and she could feel his shivers again. She started walking a little faster in response, to where he was leading them. She didn’t want him to freeze. “Wait, Seiichi.” she said, as they walked by the bus stop. “That’s the way back to your house.” 

Yukimura looked up briefly. “We’re not going back to my house.” he said, calmly. “I did say we were spending the whole night out, since we don’t have school tomorrow.”

Sanada blinked. What? “But if we aren’t going to your house, where are we going?” she asked, feeling a little confused. 

Yukimura paused, looked up with a little air of mischief in his eyes. “Secret.” he said, as he kept tugging her. 

Sanada blinked before frowning and digging her heels into the pavement, causing Yukimura to get jerked back. “Where are we going, Seiichi?” she asked, feeling more than a little concerned. She wanted to stay inside Kanagawa.

“Trust me.” said Yukimura, his voice soft. 

Sanada bit her lip, sighed and followed him. They started straying from the well-lit streets and Sanada felt a little more nervous. She wished that she’d bought a knife with her or something, she felt uncomfortable walking these streets, and while they were abandoned, her eyes darted around in search of an attacker from somewhere. She’d assumed that this would just be a normal date, though, and hadn’t brought along anything defensive. 

As they rounded on a softly glowing motel, Sanada frowned. Wait... “Seiichi, is this a love hotel?” she asked, feeling suddenly so very shy. He wanted to go that far? Despite their dating having been for such a short amount of time?

Well, her answer was yes, since it was Yukimura, but doing it at a love hotel seemed so...so...lewd. 

Yukimura turned around to look at her and there was such an uncertainty there, that it put Sanada at ease. Maybe it was silly, but it was nice to know that she wasn’t the only one who felt remarkably out of her depth. “Is that a problem?” he asked, softly. Usually, that question was filled with hidden authority, but now, it was simple and open. An honest question. 

Sanada bit her lip. “No but...well....” She could feel the blush extending to her ears and down her chest. God, this was so embarrassing to talk about, but she had to be sensible about this. “Have you got a condom?” she whispered, her voice barely above that of a mouse’s footstep.

Yukimura’s face seemed to relax just a little as she assented. “Yes, I have.” he said, without much ceremony. “Not going to forget something like that.” he said, with a raised eyebrow. 

Sanada nodded, swallowed heavily and followed him. Her hands felt clammy as they entered the lobby. Thank god, it was practically deserted, but she could feel the stare of the receptionist on her, judging her. She really didn’t know how Yukimura seemed oblivious to it. 

And now she was worrying about stupid things, like the fact that her bra wasn’t cute like some of the other girls, that it was a good thing that she’d shaved her legs and whether he _really_ wanted to do this with her. Whether it was a good idea. She hadn’t known him for very long at all. Five months. It wasn’t even half a year. But she’d never met someone so very in-tune with her. 

Still, was that enough to do this? Her heart said yes and her head said no. 

Still, as he met her gaze and swallowed nervously, Sanada just smiled as they waited for the lift up. “This is ridiculously awkward.” she whispered to him with a flush staining her cheeks and reaching up to her ears. 

Yukimura shrugged, his blue eyes shining with mirth. “Our houses are both occupied and there’s too much risk of being caught if we headed back to school.”

Sanada shut her eyes. Doing it at school would be even worse. She would never be able to concentrate again, if they’d somehow managed to have sex without getting caught. “Never mind.” she muttered to herself as the lift arrived and they got in. The lift music was a cheerful english song that Sanada recognized as being about sex. How appropriate.

They both caught each other’s eyes as they listened to it and burst out laughing, in unison. It wasn’t particularly funny, but they were both high-strung and nervous. He grabbed her hand again and leaned his head against her shoulder, his hair brushing against the skin on her collarbone. She squeezed his hand back as the door binged open and they found the room that Yukimura had paid for. 

“You look really pretty tonight, by the way.” said Yukimura, as he opened the door. “Good enough to just pin down and kiss forever.” he said, his voice reaching that deep and husky pitch it had back when they’d been kissing at school, after the festival. 

Sanada flushed a little redder at the compliments, but she wasn’t hesitant about this, at least. She closed the door behind her and stepped forward to press a kiss to his lips. He pushed her back against the door and pulled down at her neck with his entwined wrists. Sanada slipped her arms around his waist and let her fingers rest against the soft cloth of his suit-jacket.

He was warm against her, as they both sought to reduce as much space between them as possible. But it wasn’t as urgent as their other kisses sometimes ended up being. Neither was it brief and fleeting, a kiss that left you wanting for more. It was slow and fulfilling and like honey. 

Sanada moaned against his lips and pulled him closer against her. His legs wrapped around hers and he loosened his grip around her neck and shoulders to pull off her tennis jacket, letting it flutter to the floor without a second thought. Yukimura’s eyelids fluttered shut as he kissed her with more vigour, his hands coming to her jaw and holding it gently, his callused hands rough against her skin. 

Sanada loosened his tie with a free hand that wasn’t pulling his waist closer. She wasn’t quite sure why he’d worn a tie, after all the time he spent complaining about his tie at school, but she didn’t question it. She pulled away the silken material and tossed it away as well. 

Yukimura pulled away from their kiss, panting a little, as he gazed into her eyes, his blue eyes filled with desire. Sanada pressed kisses to his jaw as she unbuttoned his suit-jacket and tossed it aside with a little more care. It looked expensive. He bent down momentarily to kick off his shoes and Sanada did the same, placing them in the corner neatly, so she’d see them tomorrow.

He then pulled Sanada closer to the large bed and pushed her back onto it, with a mischievous smile. Sanada hit the bed with a soft bounce, and felt the hair escaping out of her loose bun, making a loose halo around her head. She glanced up at his slightly shadowed features with a soft smile and reached up to brush some of his hair away from his face and to start unbuttoning the white dress-shirt. 

He caught her hand for a second. “Are you sure?” he asked, looking a little torn. “We could just keep kissing.”

Sanada paused. They could do that and it seemed he wouldn’t mind either. With how passionate their kisses were, it would probably keep them occupied. But, it wasn’t even about the sex. It was about the trust between them, in the end. And they both knew it. So instead, Sanada shook free of his hand and kept unbuttoning the shirt. “I trust you.” she said, simply. 

The smile that surfaced from her words could have lit up the entire city. Sanada just smiled helplessly in the force of that happiness.

He knelt down over her to press kisses all the way down her collarbone and his hands slid down the side of her dress, until it located the zip and pulled it down. Sanada finished unbuttoning and slipped off his shirt, with a little difficulty, since Yukimura was also intent in pulling off her dress and kissing whatever bits of skin he could reach. 

“You’re so pretty.” whispered Yukimura against her neck, as he finally peeled off the red dress with some satisfaction, as he pressed his lips and tongue against her tanned skin. “So very beautiful.”

Sanada felt herself go a bit more red. “So are you.” Her hands fumbled a little with the clasp on his suit trousers, but she quickly thwarted the smooth button and pushed his trousers down and off. She was just in her bra and normal underwear and he was in his boxers. This was definitely the furthest they’d gone but they both wanted this so much. 

His fingers traced lines down from her collarbone and down around her breasts. She flushed a little as he pressed kisses against them. She’d always just remained a little annoyed by her body-shape. It always made playing sports more difficult than it needed to be. Still, as he cupped them and pressed open-mouthed kisses everywhere, it was difficult to protest against the myriad of sensations. She gasped and arched back, as she moved her hands across Yukimura’s back. That elicited a soft shudder through his muscled figure and he squeezed a little around her breasts. 

Her mouth made a small ‘o’ and she flushed even more as she started to kiss his neck, to hide the heat in her neck and the soft moans that came from her. It was a little difficult to keep her composure when doing this. Yukimura’s fingers twitched behind her and undid the bra-strap and pulled it away entirely. She shivered a little as the slight chill of the room hit her breasts and pulled him closer, until he was lying on top of her, not inches away from each other. 

She reached up and kissed him deeply as he continued to run his fingers over her nipples. She couldn’t bite back the moans now and just let herself moan into his mouth. It was a slow pace, as their fingers crept around each others faces and bodies, finding out which spots were more sensitive than others, and what they found good. 

It was perhaps easier knowing that it was a first for both of them. Sanada didn’t feel nearly so self-conscious when she was laid out across the bed, with Yukimura’s weight over her and his mouth and fingers everywhere. A freedom in it’s own way, with just the two of them in that moment. Two young lovers, the epic archetype. 

Yukimura shifted a little on top of her to press kisses down to Sanada’s stomach and she felt how hard he was against the side of her thigh. Her hands moved from his hair and his neck (which she’d discovered to be extremely sensitive) and moved to touch him. 

She felt Yukimura’s movements pause a little as Sanada curled her hand around his cock and she pulled and stroked. He moaned softly and bucked a little into her touch, almost involuntarily. She pulled away his boxers with one hand, not ceasing her movements. His reactions were breathtaking and her own panties were slowly feeling more moist.

His shallow breaths against her skin, his eyelids squeezed so tightly together as he gritted his teeth, his slowly tightening grip around her obliques, the sweat drops on his skin, where they were touching, his mussed-up hair that clung to the back of his neck and to his forehead. He was undone and gorgeous and Sanada couldn’t have felt more desire if she’d tried. 

“Nnn, don’t, I’ll come before we get anywhere.” said Yukimura, arching up, away from her touch, pressing a small kiss to her nose. “Hold on, let me get the condom.”

Sanada frowned a little as Yukimura pulled himself away from her to rummage among the pile of strewn clothes along the floor. She hadn’t wanted his skin to leave hers yet. Still, he looked quite ravishing as he rummaged for the condom among the floor. Sanada hooked off her panties as he came back to the bed, and there was nothing but desire in his eyes. 

Their lips crashed together, as he pulled her closer and Sanada moaned softly as she pushed him off her. “Put it on, stop stalling.” she panted, a frown touching her face. 

Yukimura just nodded and fumbled with the packet for a couple of seconds, before ripping it open and carefully easing it on. Sanada’s hands slipped around his back as he finished, pulling him closer to her and Yukimura’s eyes met hers, lazily. “How do you want this?” he murmured, his voice like sunshine lapping against her senses. 

“Anything, _anything_ , just hurry up.” said Sanada, with a frustrated growl. Not enough of their skin was touching and all of her earlier hesitation was forgotten now, with all of her world currently consisting of Yukimura. 

His hands tightened around her hips, as he carefully pushed himself in and Sanada groaned at how it felt. “Seiichi.” she moaned, as he slowly pressed into her, deeper and deeper. He was excruciatingly slow, to the point of it hurting.

“Chihiro...” grunted Yukimura, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he pulled out again.

“Faster, _faster_.” Sanada demanded, pulling him back towards her. Yukimura obliged, as he hungrily kissed her and thrust deep into her. Sanada just gasped and dragged her fingers down his back as Yukimura’s pace slowly increased. It was too much feeling and simultaneously, not enough. 

She buried her face in Yukimura’s shoulder, as the heat and the sensations in her lower stomach increased, attempting to stay somewhat coherent by just smelling Yukimura’s scent, of flowers and clean-apple-soap, like a summer’s day. “Seiichi...” she murmured against his skin and he groaned, and she felt the tension in him leave as he reached his climax, tightening his fingers around her hips. There would be marks there, tomorrow.

Sanada groaned as he pulled away, looking slightly boneless and covered in sweat, but almost instantly, his fingers replaced his cock, twitching and curling inside of her. “Come for me, Chihiro, so I can see your beautiful face.” murmured Yukimura, and it was the combination of his voice and his fingers that sent her over the edge.

She panted raggedly, gripping his body and pulling him flush against her, as they both regained their breath. “I love you, Chihiro.” said Yukimura, finally, against the shell of her ear. “As a friend, as another captain. As a woman, as a fighter, and as my girlfriend. I couldn’t love all of you more.”

She laughed softly. She would never be able to say anything as eloquently as Yukimura and could never hope to. “I love you. I can see how my brother could abandon his duty if he felt a love even half as strong as this.” she said, instead, hoping he’d understand everything else she wanted to say, but couldn’t. 

Yukimura smiled, contentedly, as he slowly peeled himself up from Sanada’s loose grasp. “We should take a shower.” he said, with a catlike smile, that promised more. Sanada mused that he _had_ rented this room for the whole night and it would be a waste of money to only make love to him once.


End file.
